For Love and Softball
by bowlingstar11
Summary: AU! Callie Torres and the rest of Team USA have their sights set on Olympic Gold. What happens when Team USA hopeful, Arizona Robbins, tryouts? Will she be a welcome addition? Or just another speedbump along their road to victory?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: Ok so… I'm back. Through the vote, it seemed the Softball and Firefighter stories were the front runners. Then I picked because I'm a softball player. Have played since T-Ball and Coach Pitch. So all aspects of the game should be pretty much on point, but anything outside of what happens on the field I take literary license. I have no clue how National teams travel or stay, I have no idea how the Olympic thingy is set up so… just go with me? Ok? Thanks ya'll. Now… Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 1

The sun is climbing high in the sky as blue eyes scan the scene in front of her. Women… women everywhere. Normally that would bode well for the blonde haired female, but today that just means there is more competition to take on. Women of all shapes and sizes, all different colors and backgrounds are here, fighting for the same dream… the same hope that she has. That little voice in the back of her head is telling her that maybe she has made a mistake. That maybe she is setting herself up for failure again. How can anyone stand out from the crowd this large?

She's pulled out of her thoughts when a very exasperated voice asks "Name?"

"Uhhh…. Arizona Robbins." She answers, clutching the bag over her shoulder even tighter. She watches as the young man sorts through the mass of numbered placards, and then hands her hers and a couple of clothes pins.

"Pin that to you where it is visible. And then go warm up. Try outs will begin within the hour. ….Next." The guy recites, gesturing for Arizona to continue on to the softball diamonds behind him.

"Thanks." Arizona says weakly, heading off towards the closest field as she fumbles to get her '89' pinned to the fabric of her shirt. Once her sign is situated comfortably, she finds a spot to set her bag. The dugouts are busting at the seams with women and equipment bags, so she takes a spot along the first base line fence. Arizona takes a seat in the soft grass and starts to lace up her cleats while she gets a better look at the complex. It's a set of four fields laid out like the petals of a four leaf clover. Bleachers and awnings for shade run the intersection, and is full of spectators waiting to watch a free show. No faces look familiar in this sea of people, but its hard to pick a single person out in a crowd of this size.

"Hey…" A voice from beside her calls. "Wanna throw?" The woman asks.

"Sure." Arizona answers as she quickly ties her last cleat, pulls on a sun visor and grabs her glove.

"My name is Susan." The woman says, and holds out her hand.

Arizona smiles and shakes, replying with "Arizona." They back away from each other and slowly begin to toss a ball back and forth, just warming up their arms and their minds.

"This your first tryout?" Susan asks, taking a step back to increase the distance.

"Am I that obvious?" Arizona replies with a nervous laugh.

Susan shrugs and says "This is my third. Just relax and play your game, and you'll be fine. The coaches are nice, but they are tough and know a good player when they see one."

"I thought we are all good players, that's why were here. I mean… it IS Team USA. No amateurs here." Arizona states, looking around at the nearly hundred other women around them, all starting to throw with partners and stretch out.

A crooked smile crosses Susan's face and a chuckle falls from her thin lips. "There's a difference between college good, and Team USA good, chica. You'll see real fast." A sharp blow of a whistle and 100 pairs of eyes dart to the dark skinned man striding out onto the field. Feeling the time has come, all the women cram together to hear the welcoming speech.

"Welcome everyone to this year's open tryouts. My name is Richard Webber and I am the Head Coach of Team USA. There are a lot of you out here today, and I want to assure you that each and every one of you will get to show me your stuff." Webber surveys the numerous faces around him. All the women who have showed up just for the opportunity to play for their country. "…As you all know, Team USA fell to Japan at the last summer Olympics. So this go round, we are going to bring the gold back home where it belongs." A round of cheers and applause filters through the air, everyone wanting to show the rest of the world that USA is the ultimate softball machine.

"Alright… A few notes before we begin. This is a one day tryout. If anyone is selected to join Team USA, your names will be posted on that board…" Webber points to a large announcement board at the middle of the intersection between the four fields. "If you're on the list, great. If not… there will always be another tryout. …Secondly, today is going to be a scorcher. So stay hydrated. No leeway will be given to you just because you get heat stroke. And finally, play fair and have fun. …So if you are all ready, line up into pairs. I want four laps around the outside of the complex." At the blow of his whistle, two lines of 50 women start to jog.

By the time Arizona starts her second lap, sweat is already making its way down her forehead and the nape of her neck. Running isn't a problem for her. She grew up with it, having a Marine Corps Colonel as a father meant that morning PT was a priority. And just like Susan said, she can already tell which players are starting to drag behind, sucking oxygen so hard that they sound like they are dying.

* * *

Taking a seat on the bleacher under one of the shade awnings, Callie Torres leans back as she takes a long pull at her ice cold water. Its not even 10 am yet but she can tell its going to be a hot one today. Dark brown eyes look over the mass of women who have collected at the fields today, just hoping to join her and the rest of Team USA in their quest for gold this year. Ladies of all different shapes, sizes and colors have large numbers pinned to their bodies, and the look of anxiety and excitement mixing together on their faces. Its not often that Team USA has open tryouts like today, but every now and then there is the need to find undiscovered talent. And going into the 2012 summer Olympics, Callie thinks her team can use all the help it can get.

"Torres…" A man calls out. Peeking over the top of her sunglasses, Callie spots a tall, good looking man striding toward her, a clip board in hand.

"Coach Sloan." Callie greets him, turning back to the women who have just amassed around the head coach.

"What are you doing here? It's the team's day off. That means you get to spend it AWAY from the fields." Sloan says with a smile as he sits next to his player and friend.

"What can I say? …I have no life off the field." The Latina sneers. For the past four months she and the rest of Team USA have been practicing six days a week. So when they get their one day off, the last place any of them want to be is at the softball fields. The two friends watch as Webber gets the women running, already taking numbers of those who catch his eye.

"Think we'll find anyone today?" Callie asks just to fill the empty air.

"Maybe. Maybe not. We'll find out soon enough." Mark answers, looking over the list of women in his hand. Even for the woman loving player that he is, it's a lot of ladies.

"Sloan!" Webber calls, waving Mark onto the field as the first few prospects finish their nice leisurely jog in 85 degree weather. "Let's go!"

"Enjoy the show, Cal." Mark says with a pat on his friends leg. With that, the coach strides back out into the blazing sun, prepared to make or break the dreams of 100 girls. Callie just waves, and then gets comfortable. Even if it is her day off, there is nothing she'd rather be doing than spending time in the dirt. Its what makes her tick, its her drug. Her ecstasy. She lives to play, and plays to win. She only wishes that she could be out there with them, getting hot, sweaty and dirty as well.

* * *

Th sweat is just rolling down Arizona's arms and back as she fields grounder after grounder. The balls come flying off the coaches bats at break neck speed, but she doesn't let a single one past. Dribblers, bouncers, line drives… it doesn't matter. Arizona Robbins is a fielding machine, and ball after ball hits its target of the first baseman's glove. The loud slap of leather against leather, the slight cringe of the first base man's face just urges the blonde on harder. Today isn't about taking it easy, or starting slowly. It's about pushing hard. Every. Single. Second.

Another round through the line, and Arizona is up again. The sweat burns her eyes, but she keeps her focus. The crack of ball against bat urges her into action. The yellow object flies to her left, and on instinct, she throws her body towards it with everything she has, laying full out in the dirt. With a practiced move, Arizona somersaults and ends up on her knees, ball in hand, and guns it to first. A slap of the glove and all eyes turn to see who send the bullet flying.

"That's what I'm talking about, Blondie." One of the coaches call as Arizona picks herself up and brushes the red clay off her front. "That's what USA grade looks like people." Several women turn and give the blonde the evil eye, but the action is soon back and balls are being hit in every direction.

* * *

Since the start of tryouts, several other USA players have trickled in and out to see what kind of talent may be joining their team. Most don't stay longer than a few minutes because it is, after all, their day off. But Callie stays. She silently keeps track of her own list. There are a few women who seem to have the skill and the drive that would be required, but only a couple of those trying out have the passion. The mix of drive and love, need and want. It's a delicate balance, between skill and heart. But when you have it… if you can find another player that has it… that can turn a great team into an invincible team.

Just as the group of women are breaking off into smaller masses, one set going to do fielding exercises, the other to show off their skills in the batters box, a woman takes a seat next to Callie, her steel blue eyes roaming the many hopeful faces in front of them.

"Anyone looking good?" The woman asks.

"Couple." Callie answers shortly, concentrating on a thin brunette who just laid down a near perfect bunt. "What are you doing here?"

"Same thing as you. …Checking out the prospects." She answers. Silence lapses as both women watch the show. Callie takes note of the blonde who just ate dirt but somehow managed to suck up the ball and fire it to first like it was nothing. Every now and then the occasional person would pass and ask for autographs which Callie gladly signs. Its not the reason she plays, but it is a very nice bonus. To be known as one to the best, there is something very satisfying about it.

Hours pass, and its obvious that the heat and sun have taken a toll on those trying out. But with an occasional water break and breather, they all push through the pain. Numerous small injuries occur, from raspberries from sliding the wrong way, to a busted lip from a stray ball, and even a few black eyes. But there is no crying in softball, and all the women hang tough. This could be, after all, the only chance they get to tryout for Team USA, and everyone wants that exclusive jersey.

After their ten minute water break, Callie watches her close friend and coach saunter over towards her. "You just gonna sit on your ass all day, Torres?" Mark asks with a cocky smile as he wipes the sweat from his brow.

"It IS my day off." Callie replies cheekily. "I'll spend it how I please."

"Ok… just wondered if you wanted to suit up and take a couple of these pitchers out for a test drive." The man says with a shrug.

He turns to leave the Latina, but Callie, hearing that she could get some playing time shoots up out of her seat. "I'm coming!" She cries, running after the man. "Mark! Hold up, I'm coming."

* * *

"Ok, ladies!" Webber announces as this group of 25 women have completed their sprints around the bases. Having divided all 100 plus women up into four groups to be able to see each one individually, they have been rotating around the four fields all day. One field is fielding. Another, batting. The third is working base running. "Now that you've been to each station, we are breaking you up into your positions. Infielders report to field 1. Outfielders, field 2. And those of you who are pitchers and catchers head off to field 3." With those instructions, the group dissipates as the women head off to their respective fields. As Arizona turns to head to where she is suppose to go, she sees the other 75 women also heading in all different directions, following the instructions that the other coaches have given.

After grabbing a couple gulps of water, Arizona jogs off towards the field marked with a big 3. The blonde can play several positions very well, but ask her what she is and she will tell you 'I'm a pitcher'. Any other position comes in a distant second.

By the time her cleats hit field 3 she is probably the thirtieth woman to arrive. Some are pulling on their own catching equipment, and others are warming up their pitching arms. Taking a couple minutes to thoroughly stretch out her right arm, Arizona lets her eyes wander over her competition. She knows that Team USA is only looking for one or two girls, that their team is already full of talent. Nearly all of these women will be going home without that golden ticket, and Arizona is well aware that she may be one of them.

"Alright ladies!" A taller man with a clip board announces, a woman decked out in a set of red catching gear right behind him. "I want you to pair up with one another. Keep the pace slow. I don't want you throwing your arm out before I get the chance to get a good look at you."

After Mark finishes addressing those trying out, he turns to Callie and says "Just mingle, but don't tell them who you are, alright?"

"You got it boss." Callie answers, then heads off to join the mass of pitchers and catchers. After a minute, every catcher is paired up with a pitcher and they line up in two lines. The pitchers slowly warm up, backing up more and more until they are standing at the distance of mound to home plate. Smacking of balls against gloves soon fills the air and it makes Arizona smile. Having paired up with a catcher fresh out of college, the blonde can't help feeling like she's the oldest in the class.

"Feel good?" Tabitha, her catcher, asks as she tosses the bright yellow ball back to the pitcher.

"Yeah, I'm warm." Arizona answers, taking another step back and digging her cleat into the ground. Tabitha sets up, glove as a target, and waits. With a deep breath, the blonde's heart slows and her concentration focuses. In a smooth, practiced motion, Arizona pushes off her 'mound' and drives forward, swinging her arm up and around. With a flick of her wrist at just the right spot, the ball goes flying out of her hand and slaps the catcher's glove the next second.

"Damn." Tabitha growls, taking the ball in her throwing hand and shaking off her mitt. "You got some heat, girl." With that, the tension in Arizona's shoulders leaves her and now it's just like any old practice.

Every pitcher throws her best, and every catcher hustles after each pitch. Arizona is in her zone, and Callie is in her element. Mark makes his rounds, taking notes and numbers. His skilled and practiced eyes are able to detect the minute details that differentiate good from great. After taking a few notes on tryout #27, he comes up to stand behind #89. Blonde hair falling from under her blue sun visor, and strong thigh muscles pushing her off her mound, he takes stock of the player for an entirely different reason.

"Hey Blondie…" Mark calls, making Arizona whip around. "How fast you throw?" He asks.

"Uhhh… 60-ish." Arizona answers.

"How many different pitches you got in your arsenal?" The pitching and catching coach asks.

"Five, soundly. I'm working on a screw but its not quite there yet." The blonde says, nerves starting to bunch in her stomach again. With a nod, Arizona turns back around and sets herself up for a pitch. She can feel scrutinizing eyes on her, making her first pitch go sailing high over the catcher and into the next field.

"Damn it…" She growls, then grabs another ball.

"Take your time. No need to be nervous." Mark says, readying his pen on paper. With a deep, calming breath, Arizona winds up again and this time the ball hits its mark dead on with a loud slap. The blonde throws pitch after pitch, going through her entire arsenal, sending change ups and curves and sliders all over the place. By now other pitchers have even stopped to watch Arizona work.

Callie has also gotten drawn into the masses, seeing this young blonde pitch up a storm. Her own pitcher was good by normal standards, but the Latina has caught for some of the best in the country, and knows that her pitcher just ain't Team USA material. Mark, seeing his player standing in the wings, slinks back and steps up beside the still equipment clad woman.

"What you think?" Mark asks with a knowing smile. Callie, not wanting to say anything in either way, just shrugs her shoulders.

"Hey, 39!" Mark calls out, making Tabitha look up. "Take a breather." Then turning back to his friend, Mark claps Torres on her shoulder as says "Take her out for a spin, Torres."

Callie sends her coach a look, but willingly steps through the crowd and takes her place behind the mock home base. Brown eyes meet blue and both women steel themselves. Arizona, not seeing this woman even once during tryouts, calms her mind and prepares for another pitch. Callie sees this look of determination, and a slight pull in her gut tells her that this girl might just have what it takes to play with the big dogs.

The blonde winds up and the Latina readies on the balls of her feet. With a flash, the ball flies from pitcher to catcher, a loud slap being the only evidence of its travel. As her body absorbs the impact, a smile forms behind Callie's catchers mask because she knows that this one is the one. The one the team needs to have that added ounce of oomph. Spurred on my Mark, Arizona goes through her arsenal again. Somehow, as she goes Arizona throws harder and harder, the smack of ball against leather making her stronger and more hyped up. The burn of Callie's hand is the good kind, the kind that feels like strikeouts and victories.

"Alright, that's enough." Mark says after a flurry of pitches. Callie keeps the ball as Arizona turns to the coach. "Ya'll head back to field one while the rest of the coaches and myself compare notes." With a smile to her catcher, Arizona takes off at a jog with the rest of the women as they head back to the crowd.

Callie hangs back with Mark, pulling off her catchers mask and wiping her sweaty forehead with the back of her arm. "So?" Mark asks again. "What do you think?"

"She's good." Callie answers as she takes off her catchers mitt and finding red, irritated skin. "Definitely got the heat."

"Should see her field too. She's a hell of a shortstop." The man says. "Well, I need to go find the guys. Got a lot of hearts to break before the day is over. How about you actually go spend some time OFF the fields, huh? Get out, go hang with the rest of the girls."

"Maybe." Callie says. Her clothes are nearly plastered to her body from all the sweat that has collected from being trapped in the catching suit. "Try to let them down easy, killer." The Latina plays, sending her friend a wink. With that, Mark heads off to find the rest of the coaches to figure out which one or two of the over 100 women will get that all too exclusive Team USA jersey.

Once Callie has gotten her suit cleaned up and stowed away again, she gives one last group to the mass of women all sitting around the outfield, just waiting for the news. Her mind flashes back to her own tryout just three years ago. A year after Team USA fell to Japan. It was a bitter year, a 'rebuilding' year. And her team has come a long ways. They may not all get along perfectly but when it comes to the game, each member of the team puts 100% into it. They play with their entire heart and soul, and that's all she can ask for. Whispering a 'good luck' to all the women who have placed their dreams into the hands of four coaches, the Latina turns and heads to her vintage T-Bird.

* * *

"How long do we have to wait?"

"When are they coming?"

"How many are they taking?"

All these questions fill the air as Arizona sits with the rest of those who tried out. It's been a long, hot, and tiring day. But the feeling of dirt and sweat and just a hint of bloodshed makes the blonde feel like it was a successful day. No matter how it turns out, she had a good day on the field, and that's all she was hoping for. Her slight problem with authority figures sometimes makes her freeze. There was that one incident, that wild pitch that nearly clocked an unsuspecting woman the next field over, but all in all… she feels good.

"So, how you do?" Another voice asks. Peeking over her shoulder, Arizona sees Susan, her initial warm up partner from this morning. The woman takes a seat onto the grass next to the blonde and lays out flat, just like Arizona.

"Alright. Didn't get to tryout for short, got stuck with the pitchers and catchers, but I think I did well." Arizona answers truthfully. "You?"

"Ehhh… no better than the previous years. But, can only hope, right?" She says with a shrug of her shoulders.

Another twenty minutes or so lapse, but finally a silence falls over the mass of women when Coach Webber starts to stride towards the group. Arizona sits up, and waits on baited breath for her name to be announced.

"Ladies, ladies, ladies…" The older gentleman breathes out. "What a day. I've never seen more talent in a group of women as I did today. That being said, it was extremely hard to make a decision. We have posted our list on that board…" He points to the cork board at the nearest dugout. "If your name is not on it, thank you for coming out but we do not have room for you this year. And if your name IS on it, congratulations." Silence comes the next second as everyone waits to see if the man is done. When Webber turns around to walk off, tens of women jump to their feet and run as fast as they can to the board.

Almost immediately cursing and crying and yelling is heard as woman after woman is let down.

"One? !" A shorter woman exclaims. "They only took one? ! What the hell? This is bullshit!" Some agree, getting wound up with her, while most just shrug it off and accept that this year was not their year.

"You coming?" Susan asks Arizona as she stands and starts to head to the board.

"Ummm… I'll wait." The blonde answers. She doesn't want to look with a crowd. She doesn't want to show her sadness and disappointment to anyone, and she especially doesn't want to have to see the face of that ONE woman who was just so lucky enough to snag a spot.

Arizona Robbins sits, for five… ten… twenty minutes. Just waiting for woman after woman to read the board and stalk off disappointed. When only a handful of people are left hanging around, the blonde stands and walks slowly over to the paper flopping in the breeze. It feels like the death march, each step a step closer to the end or the beginning… depending on how you look at it.

Waiting for one last woman to unstick her feet from in front of the board, Arizona steps up and takes a deep breath, preparing herself to be let down… again. Preparing herself to let her family down… again. But when her eyes find the hand written name, her heart leaps.

**Arizona Robbins #89**

"Oh my god…" She whispers, then reads her name again just to make sure. "Oh my god." Realization slowly sinking in. "Oh my god!" She yells, jumping up and down, trying to find someone to hug. But no one is there, except for Webber who has taken a seat on the dugout bench. He walks tall, stalking up to the excited woman.

"Arizona Robbins, I presume?" Webber asks with a bright smile.

"Yes!" The blonde squeals, but remembers who she is addressing and quickly calms down. "Ummm… I mean, yes. Yes, sir. I am."

"Congratulations, and welcome to Team USA." Webber says, proffering his hand. Arizona quickly takes it and gives it a hard shake. "If you'll follow me, we got some thing to discuss." Richard turns to lead the blonde back to his car so they can sort out a number of other matters, but when the man's back is to her, the blonde can't resist pulling out one last little happy dance. And then just like that, her professional mask is pulled back down and she falls into step next to her new coach… and at every step, Arizona repeats "I made it. I made it."

* * *

AN2: So… tell me what you think. This chapter was a little choppy, jumping from girl to girl, but it should smooth out more from here. Just needed to introduce each one of the separately. Don't know how regularly I'll be able to update but I'll try for atleast ONCE a week. Let me know what you think…


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: Wow! I got an ENORMOUS amount of response from the first chapter. You guys ROCK! Seriously… I was a little worried that this story may not have much appeal but I seem to have been proven wrong. On to the next chapter. I was going to save this for a few more days just so I can stay a bit ahead with my writing, but you all made me want to update as soon as possible. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 2

The screaming of Callie Torres's alarm clock is the first thing that greets her ears. But some how its not enough to get the Latina going, instead preferring to curl up even deeper into the warmth of her duvet. If she shuts her eyes hard enough, somehow the beeping fades away and she can almost find sleep again. One minute, two minutes, three minutes of praying for an extra three minutes and pounding on her bedroom door makes her jump.

"Shut that shit up!" A voice calls from the other side of the barrier. With a groan, Callie unfolds herself from the sheets, sets her feet on the floor and staggers over to the small dresser. Not even bothering to open her eyes, a hard fist comes down and lands on top of the offending item. Somehow, the beeping stops, and that's enough for the Latina at this moment in time. Knowing that as soon as she heads back towards her bed she won't have enough will power to get back up, she instead heads out of the bedroom and turns down the small hallway and into the bathroom.

It's early. Too early for most people. Hell, it's too early for Callie. But here she is. Up… and not so happy about it. One look in the bathroom mirror confirms that she looks just as good as she feels.

"Oh god…" She groans when her eyes lock on those of her reflection. After splashing some cold water on her face in hopes of clearing the very thick fog still swirling around in her brain, she takes care of business on the can. Even sitting on the cold, hard surface, she can feel herself start to drift off. Only when her head starts to fall, and instincts take over in whipping her head back up does she realize that she nearly fell asleep with her pants around her ankles.

After brushing her teeth and trying to pull a brush through bed mangled hair, she ties her black locks up into a tight ponytail and heads back to her room. Moving as quietly as possible as to not wake the rest of her roommates, she finds a clean pair of work out clothes and starts to dress. One of the perks about being an athlete such as herself is all the free stuff they get. She will never be in need of a sports bra, socks or running shorts. Once she deems herself ready for another energy packed morning, Callie heads to exits her room and plods through the apartment and out the front door. Slipping the earbuds of her IPod into place and cranking up the volume of her latest workout mix, the Latina stretches out her rested muscles.

"Gotta want it to win it." She tells herself, then takes off at a swift jog, the crisp morning air filling her lungs and clearing her mind.

* * *

Blue eyes stare out from behind sunglasses as the blonde walks towards the address written hastily on a piece of paper. It was only four days ago she was sweating her ass off, hoping and praying with a hundred other women to be able to be a part of Team USA and join them in their hunt for gold. Now Arizona Robbins has reached that dream. But… somehow she completely overlooked what she would have to put up with once she had gotten that all exclusive spot… and its not really even hers yet.

"Name?" A young nurse in light blue scrubs asks as Arizona approaches a reception desk.

"Arizona Robbins." The blonde answers. "I'm-"

"Right this way, Ms. Robbins." The nurse cuts her off. Arizona follows the nurse through the maze of hospital hallways until she is placed in a cold room. With a smile, the young woman leaves her so she may get changed into a hospital gown. An unpleasant feeling settles into the pit of her stomach as she strips out of her running shorts and tank top and replaces it with the threadbare gown. There's no reason she should feel nervous or anxious. She's an athlete after all, in the prime of her life and she has never been in better shape. There is no reason that a normal physical should create the gigantic butterflies that are fluttering away inside of her… but try telling that to the butterflies.

As she waits for her doctor… who is probably in his sixties, bald, drools uncontrollably and has terribly cold hands… her mind wanders back to the last few days. After Coach Webber gave her the welcome package, Arizona had a lot of things to straighten out before she could fully call herself a member of the Olympic Team. For one… telling her parents. Now most daughters would look forward to telling their parents this amazing news. But… Arizona Robbins doesn't have the best relationship with the rest of her family.

Then there was the packing her life up into a single suitcase. Saying good bye to all her friends for the foreseeable future. Putting the rest of her life on hold. …It was a feat, yet something Arizona wanted to do. Needed to do. Just to get away from her life which seemed to be getting away from HER for sometime now.

As her mind draws out ugly memory after ugly memory, Arizona finds herself biting at her already torn up finger nails. When she realizes what she is doing, she rips her hand from her face and mentally chastises herself, the voice of her mother sounding in her mind. 'It isn't proper, young lady'. The snarl that crosses Arizona's face is involuntary, a visceral to the scolding tone that seems to follow her everywhere.

Finally a light knock on the door and the doctor appears. "Ms. Robbins." He greets the blonde. Blue eyes appraise the man, not as old as she thought, and definitely not as bald or as droolly. And only time would tell about the hands, but he's definitely not the worst she's had. "Ready to get cleared?" The doctor asks, this not being the first Olympic athlete he's preformed exams on.

"Like you wouldn't believe." Arizona answers, sending up a quick prayer for everything to check out and for her to be able to get that stamp of approval from the medical folks. Just another tick in the long checklist she has before being able to don that Team USA jersey.

* * *

After a hard run this morning, and a hard session in the weight room that left her muscles feeling jello like, Callie steps out of her shower and wraps a towel around her firm body. Years and years of physical exertion and athletic conditioning has made her tone and sleek, but being of Latin descent means you will always have curves. And the Latina catcher wouldn't have it any other way.

Just as Callie enters her bedroom, one towel wrapped around her body and another wrapped around the top of her head, she hears the ringing of her cell phone. Digging through pile after dirty pile of laundry, she finally finds the device and brings it to her ear.

"Hey Coach." She answers.

"**Torres, how you doing today?" **Richard Webber's low tone filters through the cell.

"Good, sir. What's up?" Callie asks, knowing that this isn't a social call.

"**Can you swing by my office at your earliest convenience?"** Coach Webber asks.

"Of course. I can be there in about 20?" Callie states, trying to find the time but her alarm clock seems to be broken. Probably from her aggressive attempt to silence it this morning.

"**See you then."** And then the call ends. The Latina quickly towel dries her hair and runs a brush thorough it, then pulls on the first clean t shirt and pair of jeans she can find while making a mental note of actually getting some laundry done during her next free day.

As she hurries through the living room, one of her roommates is laying back on the old beat up sofa, a book in front of her face. "Where you going?" The red head asks without even skipping a word as she reads on.

"Webber wants to see me." Callie answers. "Don't forget, practice is at 2 today. We got that dinner thing afterwards." The Latina adds, then flies out the door and heads the quarter mile out of Victory Village and towards her coach's offices.

* * *

Stepping back out into the bright sunlight, Arizona heads back to her waiting car after finally finishing her physical. To say it was a 'normal' physical is a lie. She's never been put through so many tests in her life. Apparently the doctors would rather have athletes drop dead during their little experiments than actually during their respective sports. But after being poked, prodded, and seemingly beaten to a pulp, the blonde passed with flying colors. Now that she has her medical clearance in her hands, she's going to go check in with her new head coach.

With her sunglasses pulled back down over her eyes, she slides into her beat up old Jeep, complete with red clay both inside and outside from all the time she's spent at ball diamonds over the years, and heads over to the softball complex. The streets of Oklahoma City seem foreign to the blonde who has only known small time life. But when Coach Webber said that Team USA eats, sleeps, and breathes softball which means she would have to move to their practice complex, Arizona jumped right on it.

Finding the address Webber had given her was right across the street from the fields that held tryouts, Arizona parks in one of the few spots that have some shade. Her blue eyes survey the very beautiful T-Bird that has nabbed the only other shaded spot, then heads towards to office building. Her eyes are assaulted as soon as she crosses the threshold. Red, white and blue is everywhere, the faces of past champions plastered to the walls. A smile spreads across Arizona's face as she imagines her own picture being up on the wall someday, giving inspiration to future generations of girls like herself.

Arizona makes her way down the hallway, reading name plagues as she passes them. When she passes the only open door there is, someone calls "Hey Blondie!" Stopping on her heel, the blonde backtracks a couple steps and peers through the doorway.

"So… Arizona Robbins, right?" The tall man asks as he stands and walks around his desk. "Mark Sloan." He states, holding out a strong hand for the blonde to shake.

"Nice to meet you. …Again." Arizona says, remembering Sloan was the one who watched her pitch for what seems like hours.

"You here to see the big dog?" Mark asks, gesturing for his newest team member to take a seat.

"If by big dog you mean Coach Webber, then yes." Arizona answers as her eyes survey Sloan's office. Pictures and plagues, signed softballs and trophies are everywhere. Team USA, Nike, and Underarmor posters and clothing items are stacked in tall piles, and a large bowl of shiny red apples is placed in the center of his tiny coffee table.

"He's talking to another girl right now. So… how you liking Okie C?" Mark asks, leaning back against his desk and crossing well sculpted arms over an equally well sculpted chest.

"It's… well, I don't know. Tryouts, and then today have really only been the extent of time I've spent in the city." The blonde answers. "And most of that time has either been spent on the diamond or being used as a medical guinea pig." A loud bark of laughter comes from the man.

"Well, I guess since I have you here I might as well fill you in on a couple things. Like I said, I'm Mark Sloan. I am the catching and pitching coach, so basically… you are mine. Now, I have about three other pitchers on the team, but really only one who measures up to your talent." The man starts to explain as he takes his seat behind the desk again. "That being said, we'll have to wait until practice to see how, exactly, to play you. Uhhh… we practice six days a week. Up until this Saturday we only practice once a day. But from Monday on out, we will be doing two a days. Three on Saturdays. But I will only have pitchers throwing once a day." As her new coach gives her a brief outline of her time to come, Arizona nods along, wishing she had brought a pad and pen with her so she could take notes.

"The team has practice today, but you are excused until tomorrows practice since you have some other matters to take care of. But we DO have a team dinner tonight so wear something nice. It'll be at the little restaurant just down and around the corner. Oh, you have been assigned an apartment, sharing with three other girls but Webber will go over all of that with you I'm sure." Mark scans the copy of Arizona's file, skimming over her history and some of her accomplishments. When his eyes catch a flash of jet black hair streaking past his door, he calls out "See ya in a couple, Torres!" Which makes Arizona peek over her shoulder, but sees no one.

Callie, who had just been dismissed from Coach Webbers office, replies "Yep!" Then is out of the building.

Returning to the blonde in front of him, Mark says "Webber is free now. I'll see you tonight, Robbins." Sloan stands, and the two of them share another shake before the blonde exits the office and continues down to the Head Coaches door.

"Ah, Ms. Robbins. Come in!" Richard greets his newest member with a bright smile. "I see you've met your pitching coach, Mark Sloan."

"Yes, we just talked for a couple minutes." Arizona answers, taking the proffered seat in front of the man's desk.

"Good. Good. He's a great coach. I think you'll do very well under him. Now, how about we get to the matter at hand." Richard asks, pulling on a pair of reading glasses.

* * *

"Hi!" A young woman standing at the hostess table exclaims when a showered and changed Arizona Robbins steps through the door of the specified restaurant a few minutes before 8. After her meeting with Coach Webber, the blonde finished up her required errands and appointments, and come tomorrow… she will officially be the newest member of Team USA.

"How many?" The woman asks the lone blonde.

"Ummm… I don't know. I'm with a party." Arizona says weakly, her head craning around as she tries to find one of the two familiar faces she knows.

"What's the name?" Arizona is asked.

"I… I don't.. Umm, Webber?" Robbins answers, feeling really out of her element right now and cursing herself for showing up early making her the first one here. When the hostess shakes her head no, that no Webber party has a reservation, Arizona adds "Or maybe Sloan? Mark Sloan."

"Oh, you with the Softball girls?" The young woman asks, recognizing the name of the famous womanizer. Arizona nods, relieved that someone connected the dots. "Well why didn't you say so hon. Follow me. Ya'll are set up outside on the patio."

The newcomer takes a seat in the middle of the very long table, not really knowing what the usual procedure is and definitely not wanting to step on anyone's toes already by taking their seat. Glancing at her watch every few seconds or so, she curses her strict upbringing again with her mothers constant taunting of 'If you're early, you're on time. If you're on time, you're late.' Five minutes pass and she remains the only one sitting at the table for nearly 20.

Finally, another person shows up. "Hi!" A taller blonde exclaims, sneaking up behind Arizona so quietly that it makes her jump. "New girl, right?" The woman plays, then holds out her hand in a greeting.

"I… Yes. Arizona. Arizona Robbins." She introduces herself, shaking the proffered hand.

Smiling at the nervousness of her newest teammate, the new arrival says "Well, Arizona. Arizona Robbins. My name is Teddy. Teddy Altman." The slight, yet familiar teasing, makes Arizona smile and relax slightly. Teddy takes a seat next to the other blonde and says "The other girls are coming. We got out of practice a little late, and do you know how long it takes 13 women to shit, shower and shave?"

"I-" Arizona is cut off by a wave of more people filling the patio. They are all deep in their own conversation, almost to the point of ignoring their new teammate, that they don't notice her. And if it wasn't for the fact that Arizona had no idea why they would, the blonde would swear that they actually WERE ignoring her.

Once the party has settled in and beverages are being consumed, Teddy leans over and asks "Do you know everyone here?" Blue eyes peruse the group, seeing many familiar faces from TV and other sports media that she had read.

"Kind of… I recognize some faces. But don't really know any names." Arizona answers when she tries to draw up the memory of the woman facing directly across from her, who still hasn't said a word to the newest Team USA member.

"I'll lay it out for you." Teddy says, taking a long drag of her iced tea as she prepares for a speech. "I'm Teddy, as you already know, and I play first. …Only first. It's mine so lay off." She says with a wink. Then starting at the head of the table and moving down she introduces as she points out each team member and their position. "You know Coach Webber. Head Coach. The next guy, with the creepily perfect hair is Derek Shepard. He's our batting and base running coach. The red headed guy is Owen Hunt, he's our fielding coach. And you've met Mark Sloan, pitching and catching." Arizona nods, remembering the four men from her tryouts and what area's each were assigned to monitor and grade.

"Now for the players…" Teddy starts. "The other skinny blonde is Meredith Grey. She plays left field. Next to her is Christina Yang. Right field. Then there is Miranda Bailey, and she's the best center fielder I've ever seen. The only one that can keep the twisted sisters in check."

"Twisted sisters?" Arizona questions with a raised eyebrow as Christina says something that makes Meredith roll her eyes in exasperation.

"Grey and Yang. They… have their issues. Just don't poke the bear and you won't get bitten." Is the only advice Teddy gives out, then continues on down the line. "The skinny brunette is Lexie Grey but we just call her Little Grey. She's second base and also our teams record keeper. Like literally… everyone's stats and records are locked in her head like a vault, both ours and our opponents. I could ask her what the count my last at bat was. Not just count, but pitch order. …It's creepy, but helps to have that kind of information when you're on the field."

"I'll bet…" Arizona murmurs, imagining what it would be like to be able to recall a batters last record and be able to use information to take them on again.

"The skinny redhead is Addison Montgomery, and she plays second as well. She's also our second string first base man." Teddy adds with an eye roll, hating having to share her position with anyone else. "The black girl next to her is Naomi Campbell. Sort of a utility player. Webber can stick her anywhere and she plays like a beast. She also pinched for last years first string pitcher a lot. Next to Naomi is Julia Canner. Also a pitcher, but plays a little bit everywhere. Then there is Charlotte King. Another utility player, pitches some too I guess. But only when we are running thin in the bullpen. Pretty good outfielder. …And then next to King is Amelia Shepard. Pitcher."

Cutting Teddy off, Arizona asks "Shepard?"

"Yeah, she's Derek's younger sister." Teddy confirms the other blondes suspicions.

"Close team huh?" Arizona asks, surprised at this little piece of information.

"You have no idea." Teddy sighs, making Arizona think that she is only getting the first layer of information about her newest team. "So Addison, Julia, Naomi, Charlotte and Amelia. Then… The squirrely red head is April Kepner. She more second string, outfielder type player. An alternate basically. And… the blonde at the very end is Erica Hahn. Third base, and back up catcher." Teddy says, completing the rotation of the table.

Blue eyes scan the crowd, mentally repeating each woman and where they play in hopes of not making a complete fool of herself when she gets introduced. But then she sees another woman, dark haired, brown eyed and an amazing complexion rejoin the party after coming back from the restroom. She takes the seat right next to Erica Hahn, a tight smile on her face but a look of concentration furrowing her features… like she's attempting to solve the world's problems.

"What about her? The dark… brooding one?" Arizona asks, indicating the Latina with a slight nod of her head.

Teddy follows her new friends gaze and says "Oh! That's CT. World class catcher."

"CT?" Arizona questions, dipping her eyes when those of the woman in question catches the blonde staring.

"Callie Torres." Teddy explains around a mouthful of chicken parmesan. "We call her CT because whenever anyone from another team meets her on the field, they need a CT scan afterwards. Of all the runners who have challenged her to home plate, I think I've only seen two come up alive. …Not to mention she's a power hitter to boot." Arizona just nods, storing that information away for later, just incase she needs to know who to steer clear of. After another couple minutes of shoving her face Teddy says "Oh! And she's one of our co-captains. Hahn is the other one." Again the smaller blonde just nods as she picks away at her chicken sandwich, feeling very outnumbered in this sea of women.

Callie Torres has spent the entire dinner chatting up both Webber and the other coaches, as well as her fellow co-captain, Erica Hahn. Some say Callie is all work and no play. But the Latina counters with 'What if your work IS your play?' Even months out, the first string catcher is talking strategy and opponents with anyone and everyone who will listen. She can feel this year is going to be big, in a good way. She craves gold, even if it means spilling a little blood along the way.

"Who is that?" Erica pulls her fellow co-captain out of her thoughts. Brown eyes follow the path of steel blue ones and land on a blonde that seems concentrated on something that is being said by Teddy, who is sitting right next to her.

"New girl. Pitcher. …Alabama Something." Callie says, also picking at her chicken sandwich. "She's pretty good. Saw her work at tryouts."

"I don't like her." Erica says after a couple seconds of studying the newest member as her fingers aimlessly trace the lip of her water glass.

"And how the hell do you know that, Erica?" Callie asks as she shoves a fry into her mouth. "You haven't even met the girl yet.

"She's replaced Jennie. That's how I know." The Latina's close friend spits back. Jennie, Erica's pitcher, is the reason why Team USA had tryouts in the first place. Not a lot is known as to why the woman made such an immediate departure from the Team, which means theories have taken on a life of their own and it seems that the more time has passed, the more dramatic the theories become.

"Now I have to break a whole new girl in." The blonde adds with a snarl, making the Latina laugh. "Hey… what if the tables were turned and Amelia left? How would you feel having to break in a new one this close to Opening?" There, the older woman has her. Callie knows how hard it is to find a pitcher and catcher who seem to mesh together. Amelia and Callie have been working together for two years, and are nearly to the point where neither of them have to speak and the other knows what they are thinking.

The clinking of a knife on a glass makes all side conversations cease and all eyes find the interrupter. Coach Webber stands and smiles as his gaze falls on that of his entire team. "Alright, ladies… and gentlemen." He adds for his fellow coaches. "I'd like to introduce all of you to the 2012 USA National Women's Softball team." A round of applause fills the air as the women cheer themselves and their team mates on. "Ms. Arizona Robbins…" Webber points to the now blushing blonde halfway down the table as all eyes turn to her "….has filled the last slot in our roster this year. Let me say that I think she will bring an enormous amount of talent to this already extraordinary group of women I see before me. Now… as you all know, we only have about three weeks at home then we hit the road. We will be playing the best of college teams all over the country to sharpen our skills before flying across the pond and taking on the rest of the world's best." Tension and anticipation fills the air. Callie's mouth is almost watering as she hears just how close the big dance is and Arizona's butterflies start to flutter tenfold.

"So… with that, I bid you all good night. Get some sleep and tomorrow we hit the fields hard." Webber says, wrapping up his speech. All the players and coaches applaud, everyone of them looking forward to the long road that lies ahead. The girls disperse, their warm and comfy beds calling their name. Arizona follows the flow of players out, sticking close to her one and only friend.

"Night all." Callie calls to the group, getting a collective 'night' then heads back to her place for some much needed sleep.

When the group dissipates down to a handful, Arizona turns to the taller blonde and asks "Is it just my imagination or… do they not like me?"

"Don't take it personally, Robbins." Teddy says, placing a friendly hand on her shoulder. "It's not you that they don't like… it's what you represent." With a strong clap, the first base man starts to stride off towards the parking lot, leaving a very confused Arizona behind. Completely lost as to what that meant, she nearly misses Teddy yelling "Come on Robbins! You're bunking with me." With that, the newcomer hurries towards her car, ready to get settled into this stage of her life.

* * *

AN2: So… a lot of information to take in this chapter. Ya'll still sticking with me? Anyone got any ideas as to what's going on behind the scenes? A lot of people are in play… who knows what is coming our way. Am I still being predictable? ;-) hahaha…. Let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: Alright, I know that there wasn't at CGAH update today but my puppy was sick and I had to stay home most of the day. And working from home isn't the easiest thing to do when your baby is throwing up every two hours or so. Anyways… here is at least ONE update for today. Hoping to have a CGAH update for ya'll tomorrow. Hope this one will make it up to ya'll. ….Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 3

"Welcome to your humble abode!" Teddy exclaims, opening the door to apartment number 26, situated on the second story. Arizona follows the taller blonde into the dwelling, stepping directly into a very cluttered living room. "Excuse the mess. Between Monday and Saturday, it looks like a bomb exploded. Sundays is when we tidy up and clean." The first base man explains.

"How many live here?" Arizona asks, seeing a hallway leading off on either side of the living room/ kitchen/ dining room.

"With you, four. All the apartments are quads. We share the living room, then down either hallway is two bedrooms and a single bathroom." Teddy says, leading Arizona down the hallway to the right. The new comer, tightly gripping the single duffle bag that contains everything she needs in the world, peeks into the first room. Clothes litter the floor, as well as books, softballs, a couple bats along with a number of other items that keeps her new friend entertained.

"Who is on the other side?" Arizona asks, not hearing the voices of her other two roommates in the apartment.

"King and Kepner." The tour guide answers. "Charlotte can be a bit bitchy in the mornings. …And afternoon. Well, evenings too but…" Stopping in her tracks, Teddy turns and stares down at the shorter blonde. "Actually, it'd probably be best you avoid Charlotte for the time being. And Kepner, well… she's Kepner. You could spit in her face and she'd still smile at you." Turning back and continuing towards the bedrooms, she continues "I guess Webber was thinking when he made room assignments."

"This one is yours." Teddy finally says, opening the second door and revealing a bare room with just a bedframe, mattress, a cheap five drawer dresser, chair and desk. For all intents and purposes, it's a dorm room. Four people sharing a small space and trying to get along together. The entire apartment complex is laid out to where the apartment doors are accessed from outside, with a main building at the center of the small complex that serves as a commons building.

Arizona takes a few steps into her new digs, eyes scanning the very empty and bare room. In the middle of the mattress is a pile of clothes, all being the size of the young blonde. Lightly running a finger over the soft material of the shirts and shorts, she finds the bright red cleats and a smile crosses her lips.

"I'll get you one of my bed sets." Teddy says, knowing her newest teammate won't have a chance to get what she needs to make up her bunk. When she gets back, Altman finds Arizona sitting on the edge of the worn out and ripped mattress, a shirt grasped in her hands. Blue eyes are locked on the bright white letters that spell out 'Robbins', and just underneath it, the logo of Team USA.

"You're in the big time now, new girl." Teddy states, then sets the mattress pad and sheets down next to the quiet woman. "See you tomorrow." With that, Altman backs out of the room and leaves Arizona to herself for the night.

* * *

"So who's the new girl?" A freshly showered Addison Montgomery asks, plopping down on the worn out couch of apartment 16, just below apartment 26.

Not bothering to move her feet from the middle cushion, Callie starts "Alabama-"

"Arizona." Naomi Campbell cuts the Latina off. "Arizona Robbins." Which just gets a grunt out of Callie.

"Where she come from?" The redhead asks just as Amelia Shepard comes plodding into the living room and taking the last open seat in the place. Dark eyes don't look up from the book she is reading as silence fills the room. Then a foot kicks her legs, making the Latina's eyes snap up to her friend. "Hello? Where did she come from, Cal?" Addison asks again.

"How the hell should I know? You got the same amount of information as me, Monty." Callie growls, feeling her exhaustion seeping into her mood. What she really wanted to do was to fall into bed as soon as she got back home after dinner, but the large pile of laundry haunted her. Faced with the decision of either enduring a couple more hours without sleep, or going to practice tomorrow in her skivvies, the Latina resigned to the fact that her procrastination had finally caught up with her and now she had to take the beating.

"Pitcher, right?" Amelia asks, trying to seem like she could care less either way. But the knowing look from her catcher tells her that Callie knows better. "Is she good?"

"She made the team, didn't she Little Shep?" Naomi sneers sarcastically, which gets a middle finger from the shorter brunette.

"She's…" Callie starts, her mind taking her back to the feeling of the newcomer's pitches hitting her glove. "She's got some juice."

"Like… what kind of juice?" The younger Shepard asks, suddenly very anxious.

When brown eyes see the nerves coming off of her pitcher, Callie knows she has to soothe the woman before she goes off the handle. "You're good, don't worry. No one is taking our number one spot." The Latina says, adding a wink to let Amelia know that she's still top dog. Hearing her catcher say that her first string position isn't in jeopardy; the brunette bids her roommates good night. Callie watches her leave, all the while the same funny feeling in the pit of her stomach makes her know something is up. Amelia and Callie have been teammates for nearly two years, they've been the first string battery for nearly two years which means they know each other. They know when each other is on top of their game, and when the other is struggling. And right now, the Torres gut is telling the Latina that something is up with her pitcher… and for some reason, it started a couple months before Jenny up and left the team high and dry.

A knocking on their front door pulls Callie out of her thoughts, and when Naomi opens it in strides Derek Shepard, the teams batting coach. With a polite smile to the rest of his players, the coach takes Addison by the hand and leads her off into the redhead's bedroom. Naomi and Callie watch them leave the main area and exchange a knowing look.

"I got laundry calling my name." Torres announces, pushing her tired body up and out of the couch.

"And I've got to find something to shove in my ears." Naomi growls and then retreats to the sanctuary of her room. With that, Callie walks out of her apartment and towards the small common building, hoping that no one has snagged the last of the dryers.

* * *

"Alright ladies, circle up!" Coach Webber calls to the mass of 14 women lounging around the soft grass of field 1 in their softball complex. All eyes snap up, their side conversations fading out as 14 women stand and brush the grass off their uniforms. It's not usual custom to practice in their game day uniforms, but the head coach sent out a mass text saying for the players to wear their Red and White's today. Arizona was ecstatic, getting to put on THE Team USA uniform for the first time. The pure white pants hugging every inch of her lithe body and the flowing, red material of her jersey framing her strong build just right. Not to mention the white lettering of 'Robbins' on the back, underneath a large number '7'. Lucky number 7 the blonde has been since she started playing ball, and it seemed like a sign when she found out that the number was available for her to take.

Callie Torres, also clad in very well fitting white pants and flowing red jersey with the American Flag displayed proudly across the shirt, ambles over to the mass of girls and listens up to the photographer talk. Today's practice is all about getting team photos done and over with. The team roster is set so now comes the fun of the media. It soon become evident that getting 14 women, plus 4 men, all arranged perfectly is more time consuming than thought. Under the hot Oklahoma City sun, sweat soon starts to trickle down everyone's neck.

"Alright, nice ladies. Now we'll start with individuals." The young man with about five different cameras around his neck announces.

The next few hours pass in a manner atypical to a usual practice. Women play their positions, but only one at a time and not at their usual intensity. It's all about getting the nice looking shot for the promotions to come. It grates on Callie Torres's nerves, wasting a practice just so she can get photographed in her catcher's gear, or ripping her mask off, swing a bat or hauling off a throw to second. But she also knows that it's part of the deal, so the Latina sucks it up just like the rest of the team.

Arizona, having had her photograph taken while she pitched a few, as well as a couple at shortstop and in with a bat in her hand, is leaning against the dugout wall, sucking down some water when her pitching coach approaches. "Blondie 1 and Blondie 2, come with me." He yells, then stalks off to the small bullpen between two fields. Robbins, completely lost, looks around and finds the only other blonde in her vicinity.

"He mean's us." The larger blonde woman says, and Arizona vaguely recalls Teddy telling her that this woman is Erica Hahn.

"Right." Arizona says softly, then grabs her glove and follows.

"You run when you're on my field!" Mark yells when he sees his two players slacking off. With that, both blondes start to jog after him. When they catch up to the man, he has a clipboard in one hand and a stop watch in the other.

"You two have met?" He asks, not really caring either way.

Arizona turns to her fellow teammate and holds out a hand. "Arizona Robbins." She adds a dimpled smile just for good measure. Years of experience have told her that those little dimples can have a big impact on someone's first impression of her.

"Erica Hahn." The taller woman replies, taking the proffered hand in a strong shake. "Guess you're my new girl, huh?"

"Yeah, she is." Mark says. "Now Blondie 2…" He adds, turning to the newest USA member. "How about you warm up a bit and then toss a few to Hahn. I want you two to get a feel for each other." Again, Arizona turns her gaze to the catcher and smiles. Erica sizes the smaller woman up, then nods. A blue mask comes down over those steel blue eyes and she heads to the plate. Arizona warms up a little bit, her shoulder having gone cold during the wait after her little photo shoot. Increasing speed and distance little by little, within five minutes the newcomer is ready to take her catcher for a spin.

Mark, having made his way down by his catcher so he can see what the pitcher looks like from the front, prepares for Arizona's first real pitch. Clear blue eyes beneath her sun visor narrow, and a look of calm settles over the newcomer, and with a large push off the rubber, Arizona flies forward and whips the ball around. With a loud SMACK, the yellow streak ends in the center of Hahn's catcher's mitt. Both Robbins and Sloan wait, preparing to hear something from the catcher… anything. Any words, comments, hell… by now Arizona would even take an insult over the silent treatment she seems to be getting. But nothing comes. Hahn just tosses the ball back and sets up for another pitch.

Furrowing her brow in consternation, Arizona sets up for another pitch and lets the ball fly. Leather meets leather again, the signal smack of ball against glove fills the air, but still the blonde haired and blue eyed catcher remains silent. The slight burn of her hand does little to soften the huge chip Hahn has on her shoulder toward the newcomer. Robbins, after all, has replaced the pitcher that Hahn spent nearly a year working with, getting their chemistry just right and practicing day in and day out with. All for what? For this new girl, this… this blonde to come in and take over? No, Erica Hahn doesn't like this, and she'll make damn sure everyone knows it, even Robbins herself.

* * *

"You two are good." The photographer says, waving Callie and Amelia away from the dirt. The Latina pulls off her mask, her jet black hair stuck to her forehead by the sweat she has produced from a long hour in the sun and suit, and tosses the ball back to her pitcher.

"Glad that's over." Callie growls, then chugs down some Gatorade.

"Yeah…" Amelia agrees, but her mind not on her catcher. Instead, the shorter brunette's attention is focused on the bull pen just down the length of fence. The smacking of ball against glove is floating from that direction, along with Marks telltale shouting and laughing.

"You uhhh… you good for a couple more?" The pitcher asks, turning to her catcher. Callie studies the shorter woman's face and sees a mixture of anxiety and stress. But then, who isn't anxious and nervous on this team. Hell, they are going for gold in as little as three months.

"Yeah, lets hit it." Callie says with a nod. She grabs her mask and the two women make their way through the rest of the team, all doing one thing or another to keep themselves busy during this unusually dull practice.

When Mark notices his other pair show up at the bull pen, he asks "What you two doing here?"

"Thought we would check out the new girl." Amelia answers in a joking tone, but Callie knows her pitcher well enough that she can tell its anything but a joke. It falls together then, and the Latina figures out that the little Shepard is fearful of losing her starting spot.

"Arizona Robbins." The newcomer says, popping a dimpled smile as she offers a dirtied hand to the other pitcher.

"Amelia Shepard." The brunette replies, taking the blondes hand. They share a handshake, one that lasts a little bit too long for Arizona's taste. She gets the feeling that this is some sort of intimidation tactic again, especially with the menacing glare the brunette is giving her. But again, the shorter blonde shakes it off because again… why would they be acting like this to her. It must just be the fact that she is the new kid again. She's been the new kid many times. Having a father in the Marines meant moving around every 12 to 14 months, going to 13 schools in the span of 18 years has given the blonde the ability to integrate readily. But someone how this place, this team… they are proving a challenge to the blonde.

Finally the brunette withdraws her hand, but not before giving it one more hard shake. Callie, sensing the awkwardness of the moment, jumps in "Callie Torres. Good to finally meet you, new girl." The Latina says, taking the smaller woman's warm hand in hers.

Something within Arizona pings, some little flag in her brain goes up, and she asks "Have we… have we met before?" Blue eyes search the woman's face, but she can't remember having seen it before. But still… there is something nagging at her. She knows she has seen those eyes before…

"Met? No." Callie answers with a smile and withdraws her hand. Blue eyes furrow at the odd response the Latina gave, but before Arizona can ask anything more Callie has already pulled her red catchers mask over her face and taken off to join Hahn at the far side of the bull pen.

"So Robbins, let's see what you got." Amelia says, taking the furthest of the three pitching runs. Now with four sets of eyes on her, Arizona takes a deep breath to steady her pulse, then keys in on the pitch.

"Rise ball. Q2." Mark says, wanting to see Arizona bring the ball up and into the high and inside corner of a righty batter. With a tight nod from the pitcher, signaling she has the pitch, Arizona pushes off the mound and lets the ball fly.

With a flurry, the ball shoots straight but just before the plate, the balls changes direction and starts to rise. Hahn catches it dead center of quadrant two with a smack. Had a batter been trying to hit that pitch they would have either popped it up for an easy fly or would have laid off it and ended up with a strike.

Amelia forces a neutral expression on her face even though her insides are twisting in anger. This is her year. There is no one else that deserves to share her mound, let alone this no-one blonde who came from God-knows where. But here she is. And she's good. Like… Amelia Shepard good. And what's worse is that this newcomer is perky. Amelia Shepard doesn't do perky. Which is another reason why Amelia Shepard doesn't do April Kepner. But Kepner isn't after the brunette's position, so the doe eyed redhead is of no threat… just very annoying. But this woman… this Arizona Robbins? She should be marked with a caution triangle.

"You just going to stand on my mound, Shepard? Or you going to get your ass in gear?" Sloan barks, drawing the shorter pitcher out of her dark daydreams. Flashing a fake smile at the blonde, Amelia turns to her own waiting catcher and lets a fastball fly. A smack matching the intensity of Arizona's fills the air, the burn of Callie's hand familiar and comforting.

Mark Sloan, lost in a haze of fastballs, change ups, riseballs, drop balls, and sliders, can't keep the smile off his face. He knew he struck the jackpot when he stumbled across Amelia Shepard, a Division I pitcher who was fresh out of college. But with Arizona Robbins? A girl who he hasn't been able to dig up any stats from anywhere, making her pretty much unknown to everyone… he's hit the lottery. Two pitchers of this skill level, with the drive and ambition to be the best… it makes a team's defense damn near unstoppable.

"Sloan!" A voice calls from the rest of field 1, making all five pairs of eyes snap to the dark man waving them over. "Bring em in!" Coach Webber adds, then turns back to the rest of the team.

"Alright ladies. Good first warm up." Sloan says. "Go join the rest of the girls." He adds, then claps each player on their shoulder as the four take off at a jog towards second base where everyone is circled around.

Once all 14 girls are back together, Arizona sliding into place next to the only one who has even been remotely civil towards her, Coach Webber looks them over and smiles. "You all make a good looking bunch." He plays, getting a laugh and smile out of his team. Admittedly they DO look pretty badass, all decked out in their state of the art and top of the line uniforms. "Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed your little vacation. …Because tomorrow we start pushing and we start early. Oh-six hundred. Wear your running shoes. You're doing Stadium."

At the last word, a collection of moans, eye rolls, and even a few let slip a curse word. Arizona's lost as to what this all means, but if the entire team is acting like this, she knows it can't be a good thing.

"Come on, Coach. Stadium? Really? !" Yang shoots out, Meredith Gray right next to her friend, sending the head coach a look that can kill.

"We ain't the fuckin track team Webber." King adds, her southern accent making her displeasure sound even more demanding.

"Clamp it down, ladies." Richard says over the din of disagreement. "6 am sharp, or you run it twice. Not that's it. Hit the showers, you all are stinking up my fields." With that, the team is dismissed. As the women start to filter off to the dugout to grab their bags, looks of discontent and overall hate are thrown to the Head Coach as well as the three other coaches surrounding the man.

"Grey, hang back for a second please." Shepard calls, and the skinny blonde is the last player left on the field as Arizona starts to pack up her bats and glove. Blue eyes scan the faces, looking for her roommate, but see's Teddy talking to the redheaded coach, Owen Hunt. Arizona notices the smile on her face, and the way her body is leaned into the man a little more than usual. A knowing smile crosses the newcomer's face. Arizona Robbins knows women, she knows what it looks like when a woman is flirting, and Teddy is definitely flirting with Hunt.

With a shake of her head, she slips on her sandals and starts to walk back to her apartment but when a voice calls out "Robbins!" she stops and turns. Teddy is running after her, her own bag thrown over her shoulder.

Once the taller blonde joins Arizona, the pitcher plays coy. "So… you and Hunt?" Arizona asks. The blonde can see Teddy trying to cover up the smile; she sends her own knowing smirk to the first baseman letting the woman know that there is no secret.

"Oh shut up." Teddy says with a shove. Arizona just laughs, mostly at the expense of her newest… and so far, only… friend.

"I think it's cute." The pitcher says offhandedly.

A blush forms across those high cheek bones, and Altman responses with "But there is no 'it'. He's a coach, I'm a player. Nothing can happen." When a furrowed brow of a blue eyed woman meets her gaze, Teddy continues "It's… team rule. No team romances. Goes for players and coaches alike."

"Really?" Arizona asks incredulously. Peeking over her shoulder, the blonde sees Grey standing a bit closer to Coach Shepard that would be deemed professional. "So… no one dates anyone else. No one sleeps with anyone else?"

"Well… they're not suppose to. It's in that contract we all sign. Not that it HASN'T happened. It's just that it shouldn't. …It's kind of like don't ask, don't tell. But…" Then the wheels start turning and the firstbase man cocks an eyebrow. "Why? Does Arizona Robbins have her eyes locked on a target? OH! Is it Sloan? I bet it's Sloan. It's always Sloan…" Teddy rambles, sticking her tongue out in disgust at the end.

With a laugh, Arizona shakes the question off. "No. No target here. And even if there WERE a target, Sloan would not even be on the playing field. My dog doesn't hunt that way…"

Teddy stops in her tracks, making Arizona stop and turn. "I just got lost in that metaphor." She says with a chuckle. "But… are you…"

"What?" Arizona asks, not understanding what Teddy is trying to say.

Stepping closer so that the last few women walking past them overhears, Teddy asks "Are you… Lebanese?"

"Teddy!" Arizona exclaims, shoving the taller woman back. The shorter blonde tries to keep her face that of shock, but the choice of Teddy's words force a smile to crack on the pitchers face.

"What? It's an honest question? …You said Sloan wasn't hunting, or swimming in the river, or on the court… whatever you said but you said it. And he's like… a living, breathing Adonis." Altman explains, seeing the way her newest teammate has started to fidget. "The only reason he wouldn't interest you was if you were, A, without a pulse. Or B, gay as a queer as a three dollar bill."

"What does that even mean? Three dollar bill?" Arizona rebuttals, now lost as to what conversation they were actually on.

"Robbins." Teddy barks, not letting her little roommate out of it.

"Yeah, I am. Ok?" Arizona answers, meeting the taller woman's stare. "That's not a problem, is it Altman?" She puffs out her chest and lifts her chin, trying to make herself as big as possible. Teddy just stares at her, and Arizona can feel that gaze start to chip at her walls, but the shorter woman holds firm.

Finally, after a tense minute, Teddy finally breaks out a smile and claps her friend on the arm. "No. No problem at all… new girl." The woman says, then wraps an arm around the pitcher neck and tugs them towards their apartment. "Come on, I'm pretty sure when Webber said we stunk… he really meant you." Arizona just growls and tries to break Altman's grip, but the first baseman has a couple inches on the pitcher and stays strong, laughing as the wrestle with each other.

* * *

"Do you see them?" Addison asks, peeking out the blinds of apartment 16.

"See who?" Callie asks, peeling off her jersey and tossing it into the team laundry bag.

"Derek. He's been talking to Grey a lot… don't you think?" The redhead says, moving to the other window in the living room. But even though they have a clear view of the fields, its still too far to be able to make anything out besides figures.

"He IS the batting coach. And she IS the worst batter on the team." Amelia says, throwing her own jersey into the bag. Addison just growls at her sister-in-law. Normally, they ARE sisters. Like close sisters, but for the past few months, Amelia has been… off. She's been cranky and edgy. But Addison, along with the rest of Team USA, put that to her being their first string pitcher and the huge weight of the upcoming Games on her shoulders. Everyone is feeling the pinch, and some just handle it better than others. Like Addison Montgomery. When she gets upset or stressed, she eats. Donuts, chocolate, muffins, big greasy cheeseburgers. Anything will do.

"Why are you worried, Red. He's your man… Derek isn't a cheater." Naomi tries to calm her long time friend, but even she herself doesn't believe it. Everyone on the team has felt it. The slight shift in their relationship. But again… everyone is attributing that to the stress of their lives right now. It's affecting everything.

"I don't know. There something about those two… the way he looks at her…" Addison sighs, then peels herself away from the window and towards her own bedroom. Naomi heads off towards her and Amelia's side of the apartment, stripping out of the scratchy and hot uniform as she goes. The shower on Callie's side of the apartment turns on, signaling Addison has started cleaning up, and not five seconds later Naomi hops into the other shower.

"So…" Amelia sighs, her and Callie being the only ones in the living room at this point.

"So?" Callie replies, moving around the room and tidying up as much as her tired body will allow. When the Latina finds a dirty dish under an empty box and brings it to her nose, a very pungent aroma fills her body and its all the catcher can do to keep the contents of her stomach where they are.

"What you think?" The brunette chances. The pitcher tries to keep her tone light and breezy, but the nagging in her gut and in fear in the back of her mind is strong.

"About what?" Torres asks, then finds the gaze of her pitcher and realizes what the woman is referring to. "New girl?" The Latina guesses, which gets a tight nod from the brunette. "She's… she's good." All that gets is a noncommittal shrug from the other woman, and continues "Shepard… try to get that stick out of your ass, alright? I'm not saying you have to like the woman, but she IS our new teammate and…. We are all here for the same reason. To win. Now… as great of a pitcher as you are, you can't take on the entire world by yourself." Brown eyes find brown eyes. Callie doesn't really have a good grasp on what Arizona Robbins brings to the table because the Latina has never seen her play. Sure… anyone can rock at a practice, but its an entirely different thing when you face a batter.

"Fucking Sloan couldn't keep that shit-eating grin off his face." Amelia growls. The itch has returned and now her mood is turning real foul REAL quick. Pushing up off the sofa, she heads towards the far side of the apartment and down her and Naomi's hallway. Stopping in her tracks, she turns back to her catcher and points a threatening finger at the Latina. "You and I are going to take this team to gold, CT. I'll be damned if that…. That NO ONE takes our spot." With that, the little drama queen stomps off and into her room, slamming the door behind her.

The Latina just rolls her eyes and tells herself that the pressure is getting to everyone. Counting the days to the Opening Ceremony, the butterflies that have long since been dormant have started to flutter. Callie Torres doesn't get nervous. She's badass, a rock star. She's faced some of the best players in the world and have come out ahead. It's all about the drive and determination. It's about how far you are willing to push yourself, when to call it a day and when to go one more round, one more pitch, one more lap.

When the water from her and Addison's shower shuts off, Callie leaves the last few dirty dishes sit and decides to wash the sweat and dirt off her sore body. After the long night last night, the only thing the Latina is going to be doing tonight is sleep… and hard. Because, after all, she has to run Stadium tomorrow, bright and early.

* * *

AN2: Alright… so anyone got any ideas what's happening behind it all? Will Erica and Arizona pan out? What about Amelia and Callie? Will that team last? Any thoughts about the inter-team drama that may flare up? So many possibilities…

AN3: Also need a little feedback. What kind of length would you prefer a chapter? Now its about 5k per upload, but I don't like it when there is a lot of jumping of time and scenarios within the same chapter. I find it doesn't flow too nicely. So just let me know what you think… thanks!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: Alright, another chapter! Yay! I know… seems a little slow right now, but I promise the pace (of the story, not the updates unfortunately) will pick up soon. Just trying to lay the ground work.

* * *

Chapter 4

The sun is just peeking over the cityscape of Oklahoma City as 14 young women stand circled together, waiting for hell to begin. 6 am is too early for most of them, damn near all of them. Especially when they knew what their destiny held… most wanted to curl back up in a ball and call in sick. Bare the punishment, if only the punishment wasn't two times in hell.

"Ahh! I see everyone is here." A chipper Coach Webber announces as he and the three other male coaches stride out onto the field. "Good stuff. That's what I like!" He says, trying to put some lightness into the moods of his players.

"Save it, Coach." Cristina Yang snaps as she huddles into her thin sweatshirt even more. All of the team is decked out in nearly identical attire. Short shorts, tank tops and a sweatshirt that can be easily discarded. Arizona had no clue what the hell 'running Stadium' met, so she just copied what Teddy was wearing. But as her roommate led them to the designated meeting spot, realization soon hit the blonde. Now, standing in the middle of a college bowl football stadium, the newcomer has a sneaking suspicion that what lies ahead of her is stairs. …Lots and lots of stairs.

"We know you just do this to torture us." Little Grey adds.

Callie Torres, also a member among the group of players, is already stretching out. Her usual morning runs have curbed the shock of being up at this ungodly hour, but still… she hates running Stadium. Sure, it's excellent training, and pushes her team to the max but still… she HATES it.

Out of the corner of her eye, the Latina sees her fellow catcher slip in next to her. Whispering under her breath so not to attract the attention of Webber and the Grey, Little Grey, Yang triangle going at it, Erica says "Shouldn't the captains get a free pass at shit like this?"

"It'd sure be nice." Callie replies with a chuckle. Dark eyes find the shorter blonde at the other end of the circle where the newest teammate and Teddy are having what appears to be light hearted conversation as they use each other to keep balance while they stretch out.

"So what you think of the new girl yesterday?" Torres asks, remembering that Hahn has yet to say a single word about the woman other than 'I don't like her.' All the response the taller blonde gives as she takes hold of Callie's shoulder so she can stretch out her quads is a shrug. The Latina just rolls her eyes at the blonde. Sure… Callie, herself, hasn't been too openly friendly towards the woman but it's not like she IS avoiding her. It's just that the catcher hasn't had much interaction with the woman yet. But the animosity from Amelia, and complete disregard from Hahn? …The Latina doesn't understand it. They are all on the same team, wanting the same thing. Everyone gets a gold medal, not just the biggest star.

Finally a whistle pierces the air and all arguments and fighting stops, Webber having had enough of getting lip from his players. "That's enough. Now you're running Stadium. You know the drill. Up and down every set of the upper section. Get going!" Another loud whistle cuts off any of the girls who think about fighting back. The group plods off to the stairs and make their way to the top section.

Forming a single file line, blue eyes rake over the stadium, quickly tallying how much of a beating she is about to take today. Sure… she's in good shape. Great shape. But stairs? Those are killers. The blonde takes a position near the middle of the line, not wanting to be the one holding everyone up but also not wanting to be dead last and therefore, the dragging dead weight. Up near the front, Teddy pokes her head out of line and finds her newest friend. Sending Arizona a playful 'you're going to die' gesture by sliding a finger across her throat, the newcomer tries to swallow the lump that has formed in her throat.

Callie steps up at the rear of the line, taking her usual spot. Erica leads from the front, and the Latina leads from the back. Over the years, that's just the system that has evolved. But the first string catcher likes it like that. She's a captain of the team. Other players look up to her for leadership and motivation. They watch her drive and determination, and it makes them want to work just as hard. 'First one on the field, and last one off.' That's Callie Torres's motto, and she lives by it. If you want to be the best, you have to work for it, and the Latina is all for a little hard work.

Taking the lead, Callie calms her mind and body then shouts into the air "All set?"

A unanimous round of "NO!" fills the air which makes both Arizona and Callie laugh.

"Alright ladies, you got to want it to win it. Let's hit it!" Callie says, then Erica takes the first few stairs in a single bound. With that, the team is off and running. Being sure to keep pace with everyone else, they all stay in line and run up to the top of the first stair case. With a slap to the concrete barrier at the top, they all turn and head back down. Erica, on her way down, passes Callie, on her way up, and gives the Latina a little smack on the ass.

This exercise isn't a sprint, it's a marathon. They have a lot of stairs to cover, and only the best will be able to finish. Every woman in this line is the best at what they do, and now it's time to determine the greatest. Arizona works on maintaining an even breathing pattern, and ignores the fire that is starting to form in her thighs. Callie runs to the rhythm of her beating heart, loving the pain that comes with a hard workout.

"Come on, ladies. Make it sweat, make it hurt, make it work!" Coach Hunt yells through a megaphone. All the coaches are present and watching as their team busts their asses. Yelling words of support and motivation, they keep the girls going. Keep them focused on the task at hand. All four of them make sure that the players know why they are doing this, and what the sweet reward will be once all their hard work pays off.

Four sets of stairs down and a sheen of sweat has made its way across everyone of the fourteen women's foreheads. Erica keeps a steady pace, ignoring the burning that has started to ignite in her legs, and Callie keeps the girls corralled from the back.

Nine sets down and everyone is feeling it. The team sounds like a pack of dogs just after running full out for a mile. They are panting and wheezing, cursing under their breaths and praying to god to just take them now. Arizona, whose eyes have been locked on the back side of a very tall redhead who she remembers, being named Addison Montgomery, notices that the red head is starting to pull away from her. The fire in the blondes legs burns, the air being sucked in and quickly expelled burns, the sweat dripping into clear blue eyes burn. Everything burns, but for Callie Torres, that burn is so good.

Needing to get her mind off the burn that is raging through her body, Arizona turns her focus from the stairs to the very shapely behind working a couple feet in front of her. Normally redheads aren't her type, she goes for the tall, dark and beautiful, but it's been a while and this running hasn't JUST ignited a fire in her legs. But a misplaced foot sends the gawking blonde falling down on to the cement hard, her shin catching the corner of a stair just right.

"Fuck!" The newcomer growls, and foursets of legs just move right around her, not skipping a beat to bend down and help their fellow teammate.

"Come on new girl, move that ass." Arizona hears, then immediately feels strong hands grabbing her by her arms and pulling her up. "Come on, if it ain't broke get going." Callie says, pushing her newest teammate onwards. Fighting to catch up, Arizona pulls out all her strength and slaps the concrete backing, then pushes hard off of it and flies down the stairs.

Callie is hot on their tail, yelling words of encouragement and the occasional threats of bodily harm if a player looks like she is about to bow out. Now is not the time for quitters, or those who give into pain. This is a time for the best. The more you sweat at practice, the less you bleed during battle.

Seventeen sets of stairs and the string of woman have greatly dispersed. Teddy is now leading the team, pushing hard and grinding through the pain. On her tail is Naomi Campbell, using strong thigh muscles to overpower the rest of the team. Erica Hahn has slowed greatly, but is still making progress. The rest of the team is scattered over about two and a half staircases, with Arizona and Callie still in the back. The blonde can feel the Latina breathing down her neck, pushing her on faster but the newcomer is nearly spent, and they have just as many staircases to go as they have already completed.

Twenty sets of stairs have been conquered, and Arizona pushes past a lagging April Kepner and Lexie Grey. Callie slows to remain in the rear, but keeps her eyes on the fleeing blonde, smiling as she thinks that the girl just might have what it takes to be a real contender on this team. By now, the oozing of an open wound down Arizona's leg has ceased, but she can still feel the nip of fresh morning air sting at her cut. She has since tossed her sweatshirt and is now running in a soaked practice shirt, along with the rest of the team.

"Just fifteen left!" Coach Shepard yells, running up one set of stairs with a struggling Meredith Grey, goading her on words. "Push ladies push!"

Arizona smacks the back concrete again, and turns on her heel back down her 23rd set of stairs. By now the blonde is sure she is dead and this is her own personal hell. But just when the newcomer didn't think it could get worse, her instant oatmeal breakfast decides that it has had enough of all the activity. But Arizona isn't going to give up, not again. Not something as simple as running stairs. No… not unless…

"Oh god…" Arizona groans, the jumps the last three remaining stairs and sprints to the nearest garbage can. Breakfast quickly makes its reappearance as the blonde doubles over into a large and smelly trash can.

Mark, seeing one of his players not moving and thinking they are taking a coffee break, jogs over with a megaphone in his hand and exclaims "Move your ass Robbins!" Arizona nearly jumps out of her skin, not hearing the man approach, and looks up at her coach. "You better be dead or dying, Blondie. Which is it?" He barks. Answering the man's questions, another heave sends Sloan's pitcher back head first into the trash as her body rids itself of every ounce of extra weight.

Callie, having now caught up with player and coach, waits while the blonde loses her breakfast. Once Arizona is standing straight again, Mark asks in a calm and caring tone "You empty?"

"Yeah…" Arizona groans, wiping at her mouth and sucking in some clean air. "Yeah, I think so…"

"Good, NOW MOVE!" Mark exclaims, and the blonde immediately continues her trek up the next set of stairs. The pitching and catching coach sends Callie an evil smirk before the Latina continues after the newcomer, and Callie just rolls her eyes. She's been on the receiving end of that before, and knows that Sloan is only trying to make his girls the best. Even though at times… she would like to nail him in the family jewels with her cleats.

When Arizona rounds the corner and looks up the last set of stairs, she finds everything she has within her and sprints as fast as she can. Teddy, who had finished not five minutes earlier, is on the sidelines cheering her new friend on. Well… as best as anyone can when they can't catch their breath. Eight other women are also milling around, trying to calm their bodies after a grueling workout.

"Come on, Robbins. Push." Arizona tells herself, and starts to take the stairs two at a time. Careful to not miss another step, she finally makes it to the top and slaps the concrete wall. With that, the blonde has claimed victory. Those who have already finished applaud and whoop for her, congratulating a teammate on a job well done.

Arizona joins the rest of her team in the small circle they have going on, each one of them sweating like pigs and gulping down water as fast as they can. Blue eyes turn to the five remaining figures still moving up and down the stadium stairs. All the while, Callie remains at the back, pushing her fellow teammates on to victory. She doesn't leave them behind, she stays with them, giving them words of encouragement. One player makes it to the top, and Arizona joins in the applause. Then another… then another. Now it's just Callie and a waning April Kepner.

"Come on, girl. You got it!" Callie says through her ragged breathing. She can see the end in sight, now it's all about getting her team there. ALL of her team. "One last set. Ninth inning, two outs. Score is tied…" The Latina growls just loud enough for April to hear over the wheezing in her own chest. "You just hit a line drive in the gap. Make it home safe, and you win gold. What's it going to be, Kepner? How bad do you want it? You wanna go? Huh? ! You wanna go? !"

"Yeah, bitch. I wanna go!" April yells as she flies past Arizona and the rest of her team. Driving off each step, Callie nipping at her heels, Kepner pushes on. Ten steps, eight, five… four… two… one. Then a loud slap fills the air, immediately followed by another one as the Latina hits the wall behind the redhead. At this, fourteen woman cheer in victory as their whole team has complete this monumental feat.

"That's what I like to see, ladies." Coach Webber says as he joins the rest of his girls and three coaches in their huddle. "That is what is going to separate the Great from the Good." He adds, which gets an exhausted applause from the team. "Now you all go get some food… Robbins, try to keep it down this time." At this, Arizona blushes brighter than a lobster at the fact she was the only one to get sick. "And… I'll see you ladies at four tonight. Have a good day." With that, the older gentleman heads out of the stadium, flanked by his other three coaches.

"Everybody in…" Callie calls, holding her hand out and soon the other 13 players circle in and place their hands upon hers. "Nice work, ladies. Teddy, since you won you get to lead it off."

With a triumphant smile on her face, Teddy yells "USA!"

"ALL THE WAY!" The rest of the team finishes, just like they finish everything else they do as a team. Whether it be practice, a team workout at the gym, or just a friendly game of ultimate Frisbee, they always make sure to end it as a single, cohesive team.

The players disperse, some heading back to their rooms to change and get some more sleep while other head to the small cafeteria that caters specifically to the Olympic bound team. Arizona, on the other hand, decides that she should take a trip to the athletic trainer to get checked out and iced down. The throbbing of her shin, and the very pretty trail of blood streaking down her leg only reinforces that decision.

* * *

Stepping into the bright light of the Team USA Athletic Training room, brown eyes scan over the two rows of training tables, the mountains of towels, and plethora of other physical therapy tools that are used to make sure the woman are in prime fighting condition. Knowing the routine, Callie limps towards her usual table and takes a while unlacing her shoes then swinging both legs up onto the padded surface of the bed. Reaching over to the complicated machine and flicking the on switch, she grabs a couple towels along with the ultrasound gel.

"What's up Torres?" A man asks, coming out of one of the two closed office doors.

"Stadium." Callie growls. That's the only word that needs to be said. Silence fills the room as the trainer takes the ultrasound wand and starts to massage gently at the Latina's tired knees. It's not that Callie isn't in good shape… its' because she is such a hard player. Jumping up and down out of squat for hours at a time, everyday of the week means a lot of stress placed upon her joints. So every morning after her usual run, she hits up the training room for a little therapy. Preventative therapy.

A minute later, the door to the training room opens again and in strides Arizona Robbins. Brown eyes rake the newcomer up and down, hesitating for a second on the nasty scrape on the woman's left leg. Dried blood, mixed with sweat and stadium gunk makes it look even worse. Blue eyes lock with Callie's and Arizona sends the Latina a polite smile before quickly dropping her gaze.

Taking the table right next to Callie, Arizona smiles at the man who is looking at her in confusion. Callie, taking the reins, introduces them. "Karev, this is Arizona Robbins. New girl. Arizona, this is Alex Karev. One of the two trainers we have. The other is Jackson Avery…"

"Someone say my name?" Jackson asks, stepping out of the second office at that precise second. "Ahhh… Arizona Robbins, right?" The man with gorgeous eyes says, and takes the blondes hand in his. "Pleasure. So… I see we had a little scrape." Avery states, his eyes finding the very evident injury on Arizona's body.

"Yeah…" Arizona growls while Avery prods the wound with a gloved hand. "Ow! Don't touch it." She says, slapping the man's hand away. Callie just chuckles and rolls her eyes. As Jackson goes about cleaning Arizona up, the blonde can't help but steal glances to the Latina next to her. Something about their last encounter on the field sticks in her mind, and it won't shake free.

"What's wrong with your knees?" Arizona asks, mentally face palming herself at the lamest question ever.

"I'm old." Callie replies dryly, which makes Arizona laugh.

"If you're old, Calliope, I'm a dinosaur." The blonde says through her giggles. Brown eyes immediately lock on the blonde while Karev snickers at the use of the Latina's real name.

"Where did you… How did you…" Callie stammers, completely blown by the fact that this, in essence, stranger knew her real name. "No one calls me that." She finally lands on. Both Karev and Avery share a laugh but the signature Torres glare quickly shuts both men up. The ringing of the bell on the training room door alerts everyone that even more girls have shown up for their morning therapy.

"Sorry… it was on the media guide I found in my room." Arizona replies, and if she had a tail it would be squarely between her back legs. Of all the woman on the team, the blonde has a feeling that Calliope Torres is the LAST person you want to be on their bad side. "Is that not your name?"

"It is but… no one calls me that." Callie says, shifting uncomfortably on her table.

"Why not?" Arizona asks before she can filter herself.

Again, the Latina locks eyes with the blonde, giving her a confused look. "Because." Callie spits. "It's an awful name. And I'm a rock star. Rock stars don't have names like 'Calliope'."

"They have names like C.T. …." Arizona says with a smirk and a hint of sarcasm.

"That's right." Callie replies, then turns back to her trainer to show she is done with the conversation.

"Shame…" Arizona sighs, now just playing with the catcher.

"Excuse me? …Did you say something?" The Latina asks, smiling on the inside as she thinks that this blonde has more pep and fight in her than she originally thought.

The blonde crosses her arms across her chest, and wince when the sting of antiseptic hits her open wound. "I said, shame. Because Calliope is a beautiful name. …Pretty bad ass to me, but whatever. If you'd prefer to go by CT-"

"I do." Callie snaps, making blue eyes lock with brown again. Arizona feels like she is playing with fire, but sooner or later she WILL make the rest of the woman see her. And it might as well start from the top down. Get a captain to recognize you, and the rest will follow. Atleast… that's what she is hoping for.

"Fine… Calliope." She purrs. The Latina can't help but notice how sweetly the name rolls off the blondes tongue, but right now that's not the point. NO ONE calls her Calliope, and she'll be damned if the newcomer just sweeps in and wrecks her badass image.

"What kind of name is 'Arizona' anyways…" The catcher says, turning the tables onto the pitcher as she wipes the ultrasound goo off her knees.

"Family name." The blonde answers nonchalantly. "Can I get some ice for my shoulder to? Thanks." Arizona asks her trainer before he moves on to one of the other five women waiting to be seen.

"Oh right… every family has an 'Grandpa Arizona'." Callie says ruefully, making Erica Hahn, who had just walked in and jumped the line by taking the table on the other side of the Latina, laugh. But the look that the Latina gets in return from that little dig lets her know that she just stepped on a VERY sensitive subject. Arizona gets her shoulder wrapped up and leaves, not saying another word to her two co-captains.

Both Erica and Callie watch the newcomer walk out with not just a literal bag of ice on her shoulder. "I think you pissed her off." Erica says, playfully punching Callie's arms. "Nice one, babe."

* * *

"USA!" A high pitched voice squeals right before the rest of the April's teammates exclaims "ALL THE WAY!"

"Get some rest, ladies." Hunt says, dismissing the team for the night. They just put in another hard three hours on the field, working heavily on fielding and situationals. April won the right to lead off after sacrificing her body to stop a scorcher that was burning its way through the gap between second base and short stop positions. The red head may have a nice looking bruise tomorrow from laying full out in the clay, but the smile that adorns her face makes up for it in spades.

"Dinner at our place tonight, ya'll." Charlotte states as the team starts to dissipate. Everyone gives a nod in agreement then head off to get cleaned up before heading to apartment 26 for some chow.

"Everyone?" Arizona asks her cold as ice roommate.

But it's April who answers for the southern toughie. "It's a team building thing. We eat at each other's apartment once a week. Still gives us four nights off to do what we want, but having that meal time together helps with the team bonding." The red head chirps happily. Arizona smiles at the younger woman, thankful that at least ONE more player has seemed to warm up to her. Charlotte still keeps her distance, but Arizona thinks she will be able to wiggle under that tough façade soon enough. The rest of the team… well, they have at least recognized Robbins existence but that's as far as it goes.

"Oh, well that's-" Arizona starts but gets cut off by a rambling red head.

"Did you know that sharing food has been dated back thousands of years before Christ?" Kepner asks, feeling the opportunity to spew some useless and random facts that she has collected in her very large brain. "Remnants for the stone age and later have found evidence that groups of humanoids have regularly gotten together as a form of-"

"Fascinating." Charlotte sneers, and there the red head knows to stop while she is ahead. It doesn't take long for someone to learn the warning signs of one, Charlotte King, when your room is RIGHT next to hers. Arizona gives the redhead a sympathetic smile, and continues on their way back to their apartment for, what the new comer hopes, will be a fun night with her team.

* * *

The night is young, and the living room of apartment 26 is jammed full of softball players. Music is playing and conversations are being had. Erica Hahn is engaged in conversation with Callie and Addison, the blonde edging around the Latina somewhat more protectively than Callie would have liked. Across the room, Arizona is getting to know Lexie Grey, or as the rest of the team knows her, Little Grey. The newcomer tests the brunettes special ability, having the younger woman recall pitch counts, plays, and outcomes that took place during their earlier practice. And just like she was told, Arizona finds out that Little Grey has a perfect recall.

A knock on the front door, and several women call out "Finally!" A team of hungry athletes can be a dangerous thing, and the only way to alleviate the problem is to buy food. Lots, and lots of food. The door opens and reveals a young man with several pizza carrying cases clenched in his hands.

"I have an order of 8 pizzas for…." The delivery boy says, his eyes sweeping the crowded living room just bursting at the seams with woman. It's like a cheap porn movie come to life. Shaking himself, he glances at the ticket and continues " …oh uh, for an …Alabama NewGirl." The entire room starts to laugh, all eyes turning to the now blushing newcomer.

Yang quickly jumps up and grabs the food, but doesn't turn back when the delivery boy holds out a hand looking for payment. When no one else steps forward to pay him, Arizona decides to take this little practical joke on the chin. After all, its better than being the invisible woman. At least for now.

"How much?" Arizona asks, quietly hoping that she has enough in her account to cover it.

"92.50, without tip." The man answers.

"92.50? !" The blonde exclaims, then looks over to the mass of bodies surrounding the steaming pies all set up around her kitchen counter.

"…Without tip, yes." The delivery boy replies. Grumbling to herself, the pitcher turns on her heel and heads to her bedroom. She upends her purse, its contents spilling over her made bed, and some ending up on the floor. Having to settle on a check, the blonde writes off most of the money left in her bank account and hands it to the man, shoving a five dollar bill into his hand as a tip.

* * *

"So…" Addison purrs, knowing eyes raking over her friend as the Latina chomps down on a piece of pepperoni pizza.

"So?" Callie replies, then follows the red heads gaze to her fellow catcher sitting not five feet away from her. "What?"

"You two have been awfully… chummy." Addison says with a smile.

"Chummy? Really, Monty?" The Latina replies.

"It's just… I've seen the way she looks at you. I mean, I didn't know she swung that way but-" The redhead starts but gets cut off.

"Shhhh!" Callie hisses, then looks around the rest of the room to make sure everyone else is actively engaged in something other than this juicy gossip that is happening between her and Addison. "Erica ISN'T gay, alright? And even if she was, we aren't a… a THING."

"I'm not judging, Cal. I'm just saying that if you two were then-" Addison again getting cut off.

"Addison! Stop. We are teammates and we a co-captains. THAT is why we spend so much time together, alright? We're friends, just friends." The Latina snaps. "I don't have time, nor the patience and understanding in my life right now to even think about dating. Let alone dating a woman…"

"Who said date? I'm talking sex. You need it. You're laced tighter than a baseball. Seriously, Cal… you need to get laid." The taller woman says with a smirk. Across the room, Arizona stands and heads back to the kitchen to get another slice of pizza. Just as the blonde is walking past, Addison adds "And from what I've heard, blondes do it better." Blue eyes lock onto green as the red head notices their newest teammate. Getting a smile from Addison, Arizona retreats back to her seat and starts to poke at her food, not really in the mood to eat anymore. Just this morning she was staring at the red heads ass, and ended up face first on the concrete because of it, but Addison couldn't know that, could she? Hadn't Teddy told her that the redhead was married to the batting coach with creepily perfect hair? Did the rest of the team already know that she was gay? Arizona just told Teddy the previous day, and really wasn't expecting it to leak out so soon… or so quickly. Sure, she doesn't keep it a secret. She's not closeted but still… she would have rather gotten in better with her team first before they all learning that she prefers the fairer sex.

* * *

As the night continues, Amelia leaves the rest of her team to use the restroom. Taking the closest hallway, she discovers that she has picked the side of the apartment that both Arizona and Teddy share. Her curiosity getting the better of her, she quietly slips into the newcomers room without being seen and starts to snoop. It's not malicious in nature, at least to begin with. She just wants a little inside information about the woman who continues to threaten her position on the team. Flipping through the blonde's wallet, she finds nothing of interest. But when dark eyes land on an item strewn forgotten on the floor, everything changes. Sure, a flood of secrets about the newcomer opens up, but Amelia decides to use this item for another purpose. After all, she has a secret of her own. And new discovery will make it so much easier to get what the brunette wants. …What she needs. Slipping the item into the back of her jeans, the brunette tiptoes out of the bedroom, unseen and unheard.

* * *

AN2: Alright… Arizona is fighting to get noticed. Some are noticing, some aren't, some are actively working against letting her in. Will she ever be able to open their minds up? But remember, it's only been a couple days. Lots of time to go. Like I said, pace of the story should start to pick up a little bit now. Any ideas about what Amelia is up to? And Hahn? Is she up to no good with BOTH Callie and Arizona? Hmmm…. So many possibilities. Stay tuned!


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: WOW! Two updates in ONE morning? You guys are sooooo spoiled haha. Just kidding. So here is the next chapter. Now, the rest of this week and this coming weekend are a little hectic, so don't plan on another update until next Monday. …BUT I will try to crank some more out before that, so don't get your hopes down. Thanks! Now… ENJOY!

* * *

Chapter 5

Sunday. Sunday was God's gift to the fourteen women that make up the Team USA. Sunday meant they could turn their alarms off and just stay in bed all day. They could go out all day and not have to worry about missing a workout, or a practice, or a meeting, or a dinner. They could just… be regular women. Not a woman who had the weight of the entire nation on their back during the hunt for gold. Yes… Sunday was, most certainly, a special day.

It's been four days since Arizona joined the team, and it's her first Sunday off. Her body is stiff and sore, her joints ache and she has more bruises and jammed fingers than she can ever remember… but she wouldn't trade it for a thing. Yes, the training and the work is hard. But she's use to hard work. Yes, the team has been slow in coming around. But she's use to that too. All she can do is keep her nose down, and show the girls what the blonde can do… what she has brought to Team USA.

Rolling out of bed and twisting her upper body in either direction, a loud series of pops filling the air as her tired back releases its gases, she trudges out of her room and into the bathroom. After a couple days of living in the apartment, she found that Teddy isn't the worst roommate she could have been assigned to. Yes, the taller blonde isn't as neat as Arizona, but there is a bond that forms between two 'military brats'. Teddy's family comes from a long line of Army veterans, Teddy herself thinking about joining up but ended up deciding to represent her country in another way. And the Robbins family tree can track Service to Country as far back as the USA has been the USA… and even further. Since the boat landed on Plymouth Rock, a Robbins has been in uniform.

It's still early, as early goes on Sundays, and the rest of her roommates are still dead asleep. The faintest sound of Altman's snoring filters through her closed door, and silence exudes from the farthest side of the apartment. April has fully embraced the new blonde, but when it comes to her other roommate, Charlotte King, it's hard to figure out if you are a friend or not. Mainly because she is equally short and rude to everyone, she doesn't discriminate. But Arizona likes to think that King has been added to her 'Friend' column, rather than 'Foe'.

After her morning routine, brushing her teeth and washing her face, Arizona walks out into the kitchen to try and get some coffee going. Stacks of dirty dishes line the sink, and the blonde grumbles to herself that it's going to be like pulling teeth to get the other three to help clean up. But when the pitcher pulls out the coffee grind jar, she finds it is empty.

"Damn it…" She growls, then slumps against the counter. "How am I supposed to function without coffee?" The blonde asks no one. Remembering that the cafeteria doesn't open until 11 am on Sundays, the pitcher heads back to her room and throws on the first set of clean, non-workout clothes she can find. Quickly packing up her laptop and charger, she leaves her apartment and sleeping roommates behind as she goes in search of the closest coffee hut.

* * *

The sun is peeking into apartment 16 as Callie Torres rolls over in her sleep, and quickly falls to the floor of her living room. With a groan, she sits up and remembers why the Latina didn't sleep in her bed last night. To her left, propped up in one arm chair and long legs resting in the other, Erica Hahn is passed out. They stayed up late last night, reviewing their travel schedule and just talking. That's what they do… they talk. They hang out. They just… work. Sure, most of the team see's Erica as this Ice Queen, impenetrable and never satisfied. But for some reason, she and Callie get along great. Which is another reason they work so well as co-captains, and plan to lead their team to victory.

As the Latina wipes the crust out of her eyes, the sound of someone in the apartment above them opening and closing the door, followed by footsteps descending the staircase, enters her ears. Her brow knits together as Callie tries to think who on the team would be up this early on their day off. Turning her attention to her own apartment, Callie hears nothing but the occasional snore from the rest of her roommates. As of 1130 last night, Amelia was still MIA. And that's something that has become a more consistent theme with the brunette pitcher as of late. But she has yet to miss a practice or a team function, so Callie hasn't mentioned it to her coaches, instead deciding to keep an eye on the woman herself for the time being. The resident redhead of apartment 16 came barreling through the front door last night like her hair was on fire, and spent the next few hours stuffing her face with donut holes and muffins, telling everyone who passes by that she is going to get fat. Really fat. …Gloriously fat. Callie couldn't get much out of her, other than the fact she and Derek Shepard had another fight. Which is ALSO becoming a theme lately… a destructive theme.

Once brown eyes start to focus, Callie hoists herself up onto unsteady legs and heads for the bathroom. When the Latina catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror, a sleep filled chuckle falls from her mouth. Sleepily rubbing her cheek, the catcher tries to work out the button indentations on her face that are the result of sleeping on the TV remote.

"What a mess…" The Latina groans, then starts over her mental laundry list of things to get done during her ONE day off. Laundry, and dishes, as well as other errands around town that seem to soak up ten times more time than they should. But another glance into the mirror and seeing the rough face staring back at her, Callie decides that the only way she will be able to get going is with a good cup of coffee. With another eye roll at herself, she leaves the bathroom to pull on the first set of clean clothes she can find. Before leaving the apartment, Callie peeks into Addison's room and finds a mess. So instead of hurrying out, she takes a couple minutes to quietly clean up her roommates' floor, and prying the half drunk bottle of wine out of the pass out woman's hand.

"What happened this time, Red…" Callie whispers, smoothing the mangled mass of red hair out of the tall woman's face. With a sigh, the Latina decides she has done all she can for the hurt woman, then tip toes out of her room and closes the door behind her. Back in the living room, Callie tries to decide if she should wake Erica up, or let the blonde sleep. It IS their day off after all, but Erica doesn't live here. She lives 'off-campus' in her own apartment, like Bailey does, because she prefers the added privacy, even if she has to shell out a couple more bills each month for rent. The other twelve women all share rooms in the quads which are paid for by… someone. All Callie knows is that she gets free room, and nearly free board. Can't argue with that.

Deciding to let her friend sleep, the Latina slides her sunglasses down over her eyes and steps out into the crisp mid morning air. Her baby, the vintage T-Bird her father gave Callie when she graduated college, is parked right out front and just screaming to be driven today. But the weather is so nice, the catcher decides that walking the few block to the nearest coffee joint sounds even better.

* * *

When Callie steps into the local coffee joint, brown eyes scan the small yet cozy seating area. Only a handful of tables, with a couple of chairs each, make up the shop. None of the furniture matches, which makes everything match. The place has that homey, neighborhood feeling to it, and nearly the entire staff knows the Latina by name.

Callie's gaze stops at the back of a head of blonde hair, and she takes a couple steps to the side in attempt to make out the woman's profile. Confirming her suspicions, she finds that the blonde is in fact Arizona Robbins. Deciding that now is as good as time as any to chat with her newest teammate, Callie walks around the table and clears her throat. Blue eyes snap up from her computer screen, and Arizona immediately closes her laptop as if she is hiding what she was just looking at.

A couple of awkward seconds, Callie clears her throat again and says "Hi."

"Hi." Arizona replies, not knowing what the Latina is up to. Yes, her captain hasn't DIRECTLY been rude or disparaging towards the newcomer, but neither has Torres been warm and welcoming. Plus the blonde may also be carrying the tiniest bit of a grudge after that whole 'Grandpa Arizona' thing in the training room.

"Is uhhh… is this seat taken?" The catcher asks, gesturing towards the empty seat opposite Arizona.

"Yes." The blonde says coolly. "By my ghost friend." Blue eyes meet brown, not flinching away from the intimidating woman's gaze for a second.

The Latina lets out a chuckle, surprised by the woman's wit. "Ok, I guess I deserved that." She says, then pulls out the chair and takes a seat even though her teammate has yet to give her permission. Dark eyes land upon a blotch of stained flesh that is peeking out from under the material of the blonde's tee shirt, and Callie can't help but smile. "Didn't peg you as the tattoo kind of girl." She says, then leans across the table and lifts the sleeve enough to reveal the entire image, which makes the Latina laugh even more. "A butterfly… definitely didn't peg you as the butterfly tattoo kind of girl. What's it mean?"

"It means I got drunk one night, and had an insane idea that I would like to have a pink and purple butterfly stamped to my flesh for the remainder of my life." Arizona answers, tone icy and detached.

Brushing off the coldness the blonde is giving her, Callie tries to lighten the mood with some friendly conversation. "So, Robbins… tell me about you." At this, Arizona looks around her, like she is trying to find the person Callie is talking to. "What are you doing?" The catcher asks, now thinking that the blonde is one crayon short of a full box.

"Looking for this Robbins girl. Because that's not my name. …Apparently my name is Alabama. Or new girl. Or Blondie." Arizona says in an icy tone while taking a sip of her coffee.

A waitress notices the arrival of the Latina and comes over. "Same as always, Cal?" The younger woman asks.

"Please." The catcher says, then turns her gaze back to the teammate across from her. "You know, you're not the only one who has been on the receiving end of this torture." Callie explains. "I went through it when I was the new girl. Erica went through it. Everyone did. It's…. tradition."

"It's hazing." Arizona snaps back, crossing her arms over her chest and jutting out her lower jaw in defense.

Callie chuckles, then sighs. "Hazing… lite." When neither woman breaks from their staring contest, the catcher finally gives. "I'm sorry about the… 'Grandpa Arizona' thing. I… I don't know why it bothered you so much, but I can tell it did." Blue eyes study the woman across from her, and Callie can feel the blonde reaching into her mind. "I just hate the name Calliope!" She finally blurts out in a very unbadass manner, which makes Arizona's tough façade break as giggles come falling from pink lips, which in turn makes Callie start to laugh at herself. The laughter settles as a waitress delivers the Latina's coffee, and soon silence fills the space between them all over again.

"Most people think I was named after the state but it's not true…." Arizona says out of nowhere, making Callie's eyes snap up to the strangers. "I was named after the battleship. …The USS Arizona." Arizona's fingers fidget with the stirring straw in her coffee, not able to meet the Latina's gaze head on as she recounts a personal part of her life. "My… my grandfather was stationed on it when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor. He saved nineteen men before he drowned."

As the blonde recounts this story, Callie is mentally kicked herself in the metaphorical balls. How could she have stuck her foot so far in her mouth and still be able to breathe? What are the chances that the ONE dig the Latina gave the newcomer would be something so hurtful, so personal… and so disgraceful?

"Wow…" Callie whispers. "Jesus… I feel like an ass. Arizona, I'm sor-"

"Don't. It's alright, Calliope." The blonde cuts the Latina off. "You didn't know and… and I shouldn't have taken it so personally." Blue eyes catch brown, and the two share a look. Arizona opens her mouth to continue on in their conversation, but the ringing of her phone interrupts her. "Damn it…" the blonde growls, then sees who the caller is and knows that she CAN NOT ignore this call.

"I… I need to take this." Arizona says, quickly packing her laptop and trying to fish out the few remaining dollars she has so she can cover her coffee tab.

"I got it." Callie says, quickly grabbing the bill lying between them. She sees the blonde about to argue so the Latina cuts her off. "Really. I got it. It's the least I can do after the pizza thing." The catcher wasn't the one who made the order, or even came up with the prank, but she didn't exactly step up and put an end to it either.

"Thanks." The pitcher says, then accepts the call just as its about to roll over to voicemail. "Hello? …Yes, speaking." Arizona says, moving so quickly out of the coffee house that Callie would swear that her blonde hair was on fire.

"Arizona…." The Latina muses to herself, sipping the rest of her non-fat latte and feeling the way the blondes name just rolls off her tongue. "…like the battleship. …We'll see."

* * *

Sunday didn't seem to last that long, and before they knew it, fourteen women were back at the ball diamond early Monday morning for their first of two practices that day. From here on out, they have two-a-days. And on Saturday, three. A mixture of excitement and displeasure fills the air, most of the players not looking forward to an added hard practice every day, but EVERYONE looking forward to the Games that seem to be approaching at record speed.

Once everyone is warmed up, Coach Shepard takes the reins for a while. He has the girls do base running exercises, trying to get the timing of each of his players so he can coach them during the game even better. When Addison steps up, a chill fills the air and Shepard shifts uncomfortably on his feet. Callie wasn't able to get a lot out of her roommate, but she knows that their marriage is starting to crumble apart. No one would say anything to either Addison or Derrick, but everyone thinks that it was never meant to last. And now they are just grasping at straws.

A blow of the whistle, and a streak of red takes off around the bases, Yang hot on her tail as the Asian attempts to catch and pass the woman. Not only does the team train for endurance, but they regularly do sprint drills, because it's a sprint from base to base.

Arizona looks on, anxious to get her time around the horn. She's not much of a hitter, more of a small game hitter meaning she bunts and slaps, but she is fast as lightening. Shepard picks out the pairs, matching similar speeds with similar speeds. Blue eyes narrow when the Coach pairs her catcher, Erica Hahn, with the Torres. Erica starting at the front, takes off as soon as the whistle blows, and a second later, a flash of dark hair signals Callie is hot in pursuit. The rest of the team hollers at the two players, urging them on faster. Arizona watches the Latina's legs pump and flex, pushing a tight body on faster and faster.

Callie, admittedly, doesn't run all that fast. She's not a sprinter but she doesn't usually have to sprint. Being a power hitter allows you to take leisurely jogs around the bases, enjoying the home run you just hit. But when she DOES get going, she is like a freight train, no one and nothing can stop her.

As Erica rounds second, Callie makes her move and surges past her friend, the rest of the team yelling louder as their captains battle it out again. Rounding third, pushing off the base and lunging forward, brown eyes lock onto her target. Erica is left in the dust as the Latina barrels down the homestretch.

"Jesus…" Arizona whispers, Teddy being right at her side and cheering both players on. "Wouldn't want to get in the way of her…" The blonde says to her friend just as Callie crosses the finish line three strides ahead of Erica.

"Few ever do." Teddy replies, then gets a five from a heavy breathing Latina who walks over to the rest of the group. "Nice, CT."

"Thanks." Callie breathes out, trying to calm her breathing. Brown eyes find blue ones, and Callie can tell Arizona is trying to find something to say, but after their awkward encounter at the coffee place, neither really know what to do around each other.

Just as Arizona is about to congratulate her captain on her victory, Derrick shouts out "Robbins, Shepard. You're next." With a tight smile to the Latina, and silent wish that she could throttle Coach Shepard, Arizona steps up to home plate next to the younger Shepard. "Amelia, you're lead. Robbins, wait til the second whistle to take off."

Both runners get set, and Amelia knows she has this one in the bag. Besides Lexie and Cristina, Amelia is the fastest runner on the team, so this newcomer will be a piece of cake. Just another way to show the blonde where her place is… which is BEHIND her.

At the whistle, Amelia takes off with all her strength. A beat later, a second whistle signals the start for Arizona. The newcomer's vision tunnels as she focuses on the task at hand, which is running the bases as fast and tight as she can. The yelling from the rest of her team fades, and just the feel of dirt shifting under her cleats lets her know she is moving. Four arms pump furiously, four legs urging the women on. Amelia is fast, a fact that surprises Arizona. But remembering what her captain said the other day, that the teasing and hazing is tradition, she decides it's time to fight back. So instead of letting the veteran player go, the blonde digs in deeper. Halfway between first and second, Arizona finds her second wind and starts to pull even with the brunette. Robbins hits second base a millisecond after Shepard, and on the straight away, the blonde makes her move.

"GO ROBBINS!" Teddy yells, being the only woman on the team openly cheering the new girl on. Callie's breath has caught in her throat, utterly blown away at the speed the blonde has. Both Erica and Addison stand frozen, mouth open, as they witness the blonde pull further and further away from their friend.

Arizona doesn't look back, she just keeps plowing forward. Rounding third, hitting the corner of the bag and pushing off like she has a thousand times before, she flies down home stretch and across home plate. Stopping only when the back stop catches her, blue eyes turn just in time to see Amelia cross the plate a full three seconds behind her.

"Nice one." Arizona huffs out, trying to bring precious air into her lungs. The blonde holds out a hand for Amelia to hit, just like every other set of runners have done. But brown eyes just burn a whole in the newcomers skull. When a clearing of a throat draws the brunettes attention away from Arizona, Amelia finds her catcher… and captain… standing right behind her, giving the classic Torres glare. Knowing what Callie wants, Amelia lamely touches Arizona's proffered hand, then turns away from the woman.

Pursing her lips, and burrowing her brow, Arizona states "I pissed her off."

"Oh yeah." Callie replies with a chuckle. "She doesn't like to lose."

"Who does?" The blonde rebuttals, making both of them laugh. When a sharp whistle signals the end of this drill, the team circles up and prepares for the next phase of their training. The temperature is starting to rise, and everyone knows that the next two weeks are going to majorly suck. But it's about hard work and dedication now. Those who have it versus those who don't.

* * *

AN2: Ok, a little shorter but it was the cleanest place to cut. Tell me what you think? Arizona and Callie had a little more one on one conversation. Arizona pissed Amelia off even more. Should be good. And what about Arizona's phone call? What was so important that she needed to rush away from Callie? Give me your theories, I love hearing them! Story will start picking up next chapter, so hang on to your seats.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: Another update! Yay! Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 6

Amelia was just staggering back to the Quads early one morning when her eyes fall upon the beat up old Jeep that she remembers the new girl driving. It's been a couple days since the shorter brunette was shown up around the bases, Arizona leaving her in the dust as the new pitcher sped from bag to bag, crossing home plate like her hair was on fire. Since then, Arizona has somehow gotten under the young Shepard's skin even more. The mix of perky and competitiveness just grates at Amelia's nerves. And for some reason… no one else see's it. In the last few days, that blonde bimbo has managed to gain even more points with most of the team. Sure, there are a couple of old timers who still don't really acknowledge Arizona's existence, but still… Amelia feels the walls starting to build around her.

Looking around, making sure no one is up and about at this ungodly hour, she tip toes to the Jeep and gives it a hard look. Its not an OLD car, but it's not what one would call 'new' either. It's dented, and has layer after layer of caked on red dust, hinting at the amount of time the blonde spends around ball diamonds. Inside is neat and tidy, save for a few crumpled up pieces of paper and some discarded water bottles. Nothing would hit to the blondes true being, something only Amelia herself knows about at this time.

Some small part in the back of her mind tells Amelia to just let it go. They are all on the same team, and they all have the same goal. One person wins, everyone wins. But… the need to be the best. The need to be seen and worshiped is almost too much for the young Shepard, and the devil wins out.

With one last look around the area to ensure no onlookers, the brunette squats down next to one of the Jeep's tires and unscrews the tire knob. Pushing the pin aside, air slowly leaks out and the vehicle starts to dip. She then moves onto the rear drives side tire and does the same thing. If her mental facilities were functioning correctly, Amelia would have thought that two flat tires would seem suspicious but somewhat plausible. But since the brunette had been having some extracurricular fun for the past few hours, she's not as sharp or forward thinking as she usually is and decides that the blonde bitch deserves four equally flat tires.

"Suck on that, Alabama." Amelia says, then lets out a cackle that would be eerily close to those villains of old Disney movies.

* * *

Callie Torres wakes to the sound of her apartment door opening and closing, then the not so nimble footing of one of her roommates trying to find their bed. Normally the Latina can sleep through a freight train rolling through the living room, but when Amelia never came home last night, Callie knew something was up. She's walking a fine line. The team is just a week and a half from going on the road, but Callie has spent so much time training and working with the she-Shepard that the Latina can't believe Amelia would do anything to jeopardize their position THIS close to the Games.

Deciding that it would be best to confront the brunette while in the act, the Latina rolls out of bed and heads out to the living room. But on her way to the other side of the apartment, a lone crying redhead curled up in the corner of the couch makes her veer off course. Addison is clutching her knees and sobbing into the pillow in her lap, and Callie knows that her friend needs her more than Amelia needs to be lectured at the moment.

"Addy…" Callie breathes out while gently sitting next to the woman. "Talk to me."

"It's over." Addison gasps, finally looking up. Green eyes stick out from the mess of mascara and eye liner running down the redhead's face. A nose bright red from crying and clothes wrinkled beyond saving. To the catcher, its evident that Addison Montgomery had been in this position most of the night and a pang of quilt hits her as she realizes her friend was suffering while Callie, herself, slept in the next room.

"You don't know that." The raven-haired woman replies. "Maybe… maybe you two just need a break. Need some time to realize how much you love eachother."

"No." The redhead cries. "No, he's already moved on, Cal. He says that he hasn't. That he and GREY aren't… aren't…"

"Together?" The Latina chances.

"But I can see it in his eyes! The way he looks at her. The way his…. His bug eyes pop when her wiry ass runs past him." Addison sneers, jealousy and hate quickly picking up pace. Callie can sense that this is moving in a very dangerous direction. She is already trying to play some interference between the new girl and the rest of her team. Callie doesn't want to have to break up a cage match between Meredith and Addison on top of it.

"Addison, look at me." The catcher states, shaking the redhead slightly and pulling her out of her thoughts of revenge. " I don't what has happened between you and Derek, but I KNOW Derek. At least, I'd like to think that I know him and his character. And I can promise you that he WON'T cross any lines with Grey. …Not yet." Green eyes hint of belief as the redhead listens to Callie. "Derek wouldn't do that this close to the games, Addy. He's worked too hard. We all have."

"You're right." Addison finally breathes out. "Of course you're right. He's… he's got principles." The redhead dries her face, then collects the masses of tissues around her. "I'm ummm… I'm going to go grab a couple hours before practice. I'll need all the energy I can to keep from ringing Derek's neck these next few months." Brown eyes look quizzically at her friend, making the redhead shrug. "He may be a coach, but he's my husband. I have the right to ring his neck if I want." With that, the tired and dehydrated woman retreats to her own room, intent on sleeping a few hours before putting on a brave face in front of the rest of the team.

Callie sighs and shakes her head as she thinks about how her Coach could have just screwed the team big time. How could Derek do this? Add this drama to the mix, pit one player against the other. Is Callie the only person on this entire team that see's how easily it would be to break just ONE player, and in turn, bring the rest down with them.

Once the Latina hears her friend's body hit the squeaking mattress of her bed, Callie stands and heads to Amelia's room. But instead of finding an alert pitcher, brown eyes fall upon a sickly looking body curled up into itself under the heavy comforter on her bed. Seeing her teammate unconscious to the world, she decides to let the woman get some much needed sleep. Even if she has become a screw up with her personal life, Callie has to admit that the She-Shepard has never dropped the ball when it came to the game.

"You do something to screw this up for me, I'll end you myself." The Latina whispers, then leaves the sleeping woman, closing Amelia's door behind her.

* * *

"What the hell? !" Arizona yells, coming out of her apartment and finding a greatly deflated Jeep. Blue eyes find one flat tire, then another, then another… then another.

"Four flat tires?" Teddy questions, her brows knitted together in confusion. "That's… that's-"

"Not a coincidence." The blonde cuts in. "I'm getting tired of these damn pranks." Just then, four women file out of Apartment 16, all heading to the fields for practice. Callie exits first, and finds Altman and Robbins staring at a very dirty Jeep. When Arizona sees a very haggard looking Amelia saunter out, her bat bag slung over her shoulder, the blonde raises a finger and asks "Did you do this?"

"Do what?" Amelia snaps, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Arizona points to her car, and all eyes land upon the crippled state of the vehicle. Callie's teeth grind in irritation, certain that this was the work of her pitchers evil mind. "Why would you think it was me?" The brunette questions, meeting sharp blue eyes again.

"Who else would do it? No one on this team has been as spiteful to me as you have been." Arizona bites back. "If you have a problem with me, how about you-"

"Enough!" Callie jumps in, breaking the two up before things get ugly. "We got practice, and if you two have a problem you settle it on the field." The Latina adds, grabbing Amelia by her arm and pulling her towards the ball diamond. Teddy finds purchase on the back of Arizona's practice jersey before the blonde tears after the other pitcher.

"You can't let her get to you, Arizona." Teddy whispers in the seething blonde's ear. "She's just trying to get you riled up. You want to get back at her, you do it on the dirt." Once the first base man sees the other group of women a good fifty feet ahead of them, she pulls the newcomer after her and heads for the fields. All the while, Arizona grumbles under her breath, thinking of ways to get back at the veteran pitcher.

* * *

"Alright ladies, circle up." Coach Webber announces after his team gets all warmed up and stretched out. The players congregate towards him, gloves tucked under arms and women pull their hair up and away from their faces. The Oklahoma sun is still high in the sky, and the heat is slowly baking their skin. Arizona has noticed that she has the making of a softball tan, and can only smile as it brings back memories from long ago. Many summers did she have stripes of tanned flesh over her knees. Shorts coming down to her mid thighs, and then long knee hi-socks stretching just up and over her calves, and her left hand nearly ghost white while her right is as tanned as it can be.

"What's the plan today, boss man?" Callie asks as she pulls the material of the front of her shirt up and wipes at the sweat collecting over her brow. She doesn't see how two sets of blue eyes, from two very different blondes, snap to her tone stomach and marvel as strong core muscles flex underneath.

"Scrimmage." Webber says with a smile and everyone applauds. After days and days of drill after drill, they are ready to actually play. Even if it IS against one another. "Torres and company is the red team. King and co, blue. Grey and co, white. Hahn, you're on the white team with the Grey's. Bailey, blue team." Richard adds, dividing the fourteen woman team up by their rooming assignments, since there aren't enough to play a full team against a full team. So one team will be batting and the other two will be fielding.

After a three way rock, paper, scissors battle, the blue team ends up batting first. Arizona, Teddy, Charlotte, April and Miranda all get their batting gloves and helmets ready while the rest of the team takes their positions. Even though its just a little friendly competition, everyone feels the game atmosphere settle over them. None of them would have made it this far if they didn't have an innate need to win.

Decked out head to toe in her special made red catcher's equipment, Callie hands her pitcher a brand new ball and asks "Ready to light them up?" Brown eyes stare into brown eyes, and the Latina notices that Amelia's seem a little blood shot and her flesh paler than usual.

"Let's do it." The younger Shepard replies, then takes her stance on the rubber. The Latina retreats back to behind the plate and scans over her field. She loves the view from here, she can see every single one of her teammates, and they all look to her for direction. Brown eyes lock with green ones at first base where Addison is playing, then shift to the ice blue eyes of her fellow co-captain at third. Naomi is playing short and Lexie is positioned at second, with the twisted sisters cover the outfield corners and Julia playing center.

Teddy approaches the plate first, being lead off for the blue team. Webber steps up behind Callie and declares "Play ball." With that, their little scrimmage is underway. Amelia lights up the strike zone, throwing burning pitch after burning pitch. Teddy grabs a piece of a few, and when the count is full, she manages to make enough contact to put the ball in play. It flies down the third base line, but Erica is quick enough to snag the ball and fire to first. A second before Altman's foot touches the bag, Addison uses the very large reach her lanky body has, and stretches out to catch the ball for an out.

"Out!" Hunt exclaims since he is the one playing the field umpire. The infield moves into the pitching circle, slapping quick fives all around before Addison hands the ball back to the pitcher.

Next up is Charlotte King, a fiery little player who bites just as hard as she barks. A crossbreed of a power hitter and speedster, she can be deadly with a bat. Callie catches the signs from Mark and relays them to Amelia, who willingly accepts the plan to play away from her teammate's sweet spot. The spitfire blonde looks to her batting coach at third and immediately gets the 'swing away' sign. Amelia pitches right to her teammate, going nail for nail as they battle each other. The brunette sends a curve, and Charlotte chases it. Amelia pitches a drop, and King tips it. But finally, Amelia lets out a curve that hangs just a second too much and the batter sends it flying to the gap between center and right.

Arizona, Teddy, Miranda and April cheer Charlotte on as she takes off like a bat out of hell. Not nearly as fast as Amelia or the newcomer, but King can make tracks and is soon rounding first and chugging it towards second. The blonde slows and easily makes it to the bag safely by the time Yang has fielded the ball and thrown it to Lexie, her cutoff man.

"Alright, new girl. Game time." Teddy says, slapping the top of Arizona's helmet then pushing her friend towards home plate.

Arizona steps up to the plate and glances down the third base line to catch her signal from Coach Shepard while Callie looks down the first base line and catches Coach Sloan's signal. The blonde touches the rim of her helmet to signal she has her sign, then steps into the right batter's box. Callie gives the pitching coach a nod, then relays the sign to her pitcher. The brunette gives a single, tight nod, accepting the pitch, then sets up.

Arizona has yet to bat against Amelia, but from what she has seen in practice, the woman has some heat as well as a very wide arsenal. The catcher props up on the balls of her feet, and gets ready for some action. The pitcher sees a clear opportunity here to send the new comer a message. The blonde takes her bottom lip between her teeth as she waits for the windup, then gets set as Amelia starts her pitch. Driving off the mound with force, the brunette pitcher flings the ball at break neck speed.

Arizona squares around to bunt, but pulls back when she sees that pitch veer inside. WAY inside. …As in, the type of pitch meant to send a message to a batter. The blonde backs out of the batter's box and locks eyes with the pitcher, who has a satisfied smirk playing at her lips.

"Ball." Webber declares, and Callie grinds her teeth because she knows EXACTLY what her pitcher is trying to do. Catching Amelia's gaze again, the Latina signals another pitch, this one down and away now that Callie knows to expect a bunt. Amelia confirms and Arizona steps back into the box. Again, the pitcher drives off the mound and sends the ball flying. The blonde takes a step back just in the nick of time to avoid having stitches sear their way across her arm.

"Ball." Webber announces, even though people in the outfield could have seen that. The blonde grits her teeth, not daring to take the bait the veteran is dangling right in front of her face. With a 2-0 count, Arizona steps back into the box and prepares for what she can only assume will be another brush off. And she's right, lunging out of the box just as a curve ball moves a little too far inside.

"Ball." Webber states, this time catching the gaze of his pitcher on the mound. An unspoken conversation is had, and with a stiff nod from the brunette, Webber has said his last to the woman. Blue eyes glance down to the third base coach, catching the 'take one' signal. A tap to her helmet and Arizona steps back up. Being ahead with a 3-0 count, its standard practice to always take the next pitch since the chances of getting a free ride to first are high. Usually the blonde does what she wants, because she can never lay off those big juicy fastballs right down the center, but this is her first time in a game like situation and she wants to show her coaches how much of a team player she is. So when Amelia sends a scorcher right into Callie's glove, Arizona bites her tongue and looks for the next signal.

"3-1." The head coach announces. Brown eyes dart to her friend's down the first base line and catches the signal for an up and away rise ball. Passing the sign to her pitcher, Callie squares up and prepares for a tipped foul. Arizona steps back in, getting the 'swing away' sign, and scoots to the furthest edge of the box. Amelia takes a breath and finds her grip, then sends a heater flying. As soon as the ball is released, the blonde starts to run in the batter's box, bring the bat around just in time to slap the riser to make it dribble down the third base line. Callie snaps up and rips her helmet off after the ball as Arizona races down the first base line. Erica, having been playing back because of Charlotte on second looking to take third, rushes forward to field the ball but her Latina co-captian scoops it up first. Working off instincts, Callie lets the ball fly towards first, not even taking the time to visually find her target.

Arizona's red cleat has already hit the white rubber base and passed by the time the bright neon yellow ball slaps Addison's glove.

"SAFE!" Hunt exclaims loudly. A curse falls from plump lips, realizing that if anyone else had been the runner, she would have gotten that out.

"New girl got the drop on ya…" Erica says as she playfully slaps her teammate's ass.

"Suck it, Hahn." The Latina sneers.

"When and where, hot stuff…" Hahn replies with a wink as Callie retreats back behind the plate. During Arizona's play, Charlotte had advanced to third, leaving second open for the blonde at first to try and steal. After signaling his batter to feign a bunt, Derek turns to his runner at first and signals to steal. Robbins readies herself, and just as the ball leaves Amelia's hand, Arizona takes off like a drag car.

Callie, knowing that the little speed demon would more than likely try to steal on the Latina, is already up and out of her stance by the time the ball hits her glove. Amelia barely has time to hit the dirt before Callie is firing the neon object back the way it came. The blonde pumps her arms with all her might, and at ten feet out, falls into a perfect slide. Naomi barely makes it to second in time to catch the incoming ball, but the tag is too late and Arizona has successfully stolen the bag.

"Safe!" Hunt exclaims again, theatrically throwing out his arms to either side which makes Teddy and April cheer from the sidelines.

"Damn it!" Callie growls to herself. No one steals on the Latina. Normally it's not even a close call, they are always out, but now she has met her match. Arizona and Charlotte are left on base as April strikes out and Bailey sends a blooper into left where Meredith Grey easily makes the third out. With that, the blue team gets ready to field with the white team while red team heads in to bat.

"Blondie!" Mark hollers from the first base coaches box, making both Erica and Arizona snap up to meet his gaze. "Suit up, Hahn. Robbins is on the mound." He says, making Arizona's mouth go dry.

As Callie pulls off her suit, Erica steps up next to her and starts fastening her blue set over her body. With a helping hand from the Latina, the blonde is soon behind the plate a catching a couple warm up pitches while everyone gets set on the field.

"Batter up!" Webber announces, and Erica fires the ball back to her pitcher.

"No outs, plays at one!" Erica yells as Addison steps into the batter's box.

Arizona stares down her first opponent and can feel all her teammate's eyes on her. Usually she pitches off to the side in one of the bullpens where a select few congregate. But now she is the center of attention, sharing the mound with some of the best players in the country. Her eyes lock with the ice blue ones behind Erica's catcher's mask. Even after the many practices the two have worked together, Arizona still doesn't feel completely comfortable with her catcher. Hahn just doesn't… flow with her. It's just basic chemistry. Like trying to mix oil and water. …They just don't play well with each other. But the newcomer doesn't voice her concerns because, after all, she IS the new girl.

Erica relays the first pitch and Arizona shakes it off, wanting a different one… an up and away pitch to someone as tall as Addison would be like sending her a big fat steak right to the sweet spot. But the catcher is persistent, giving the same signal over and over again. With a huff, Arizona finally accepts, then prepares for her first pitch. A flash back of her first pitch with Mark watching flashes across the pitchers eyes, but she quickly clears the image. Just as most sports, its 10% physical and 90% mental. Tell yourself you can't… that you're going to screw up and you're right. You will. The blonde imagines the pitch tearing a hole through Erica's glove, then takes a deep breath and lets the pitch fly. With a smack, it hits Hahn's glove dead center.

"STRIKE!" Webber announces a bit theatrically. Addison Montgomery takes a step out of the batter's box and catches her newest teammates gaze. An inkling of a smile cross her thin lines, and Arizona thinks that she might have just earned a little respect amongst one of her harder peers. The pitcher tries to keep her face neutral, not wanting to be the immature player who smiles at getting a simple strike, but when blue eyes lock with Teddy at first, who is sending the newcomer a thumbs up, Arizona can't help it.

The newcomer ends up showing the redhead five pitches, and when Addison hits a hard grounder to Lexie at second, it's an easy out. Arizona gets a round of high fives as her next victim steps up to the plate. Amelia and Erica's gazes lock, and the two friends give each other a smile. When the pitcher turns back around to face the next batter, Arizona finds her nemesis just staring at her. Daring her to bring the best she's got.

"You got it…" Arizona growls quietly to the brunette. Unbeknownst to them, all eyes turn to the two pitchers who are about to battle out. Round one went to Robbins, and now it's up to Amelia to even the score. Callie watches from the on-deck circle as she takes a couple warm up swings.

Arizona shakes off the first pitch, and then the second but settles on an up and out curveball, thinking that Amelia will expect a little of her own treatment in return. So while the brunette will be halfway out of the box, Arizona's pitch will slide the opposite way, well out of the reach of the first string pitchers bat. Dark eyes narrow as she focuses on the blonde at the rubber. When strong legs push off the mound, Arizona flicks her wrist and sends the ball flying.

And just like the blonde predicted, Amelia is already bailing on the pitch when a loud slap echoes across the field quickly followed by the booming voice of Coach Webber exclaiming "Strike!" Wanting to rub it in with a bit of salt, Arizona catches the ball thrown from her catcher and then sends a small smile and wink to the batter. Amelia grits her teeth and mumbles a few choice words under her breath, then prepares to show this blonde bitch who, exactly, is number one on this team.

Erica ignores Coach Sloan's signal and decides to take over the reins of this little bitch fest. She calls for a down and in drop, knowing full well that down and inside is Amelia's pot of gold. But Arizona shakes it off. Again Erica calls the same pitch, but blonde hair shakes alittle harder as she brushes the pitch off again. When her catcher calls for the same pitch a third time, clear blue eyes nearly roll their way right out of her skull. Finally, Arizona just nods and decides to pitch what she wants anyways. The catcher sets up, the batter's grip relaxes, and the pitchers fingers find their grip on the softball lace.

Placing the heater high and inside the just nips at the corner of the strike zone, giving Amelia just a taste of what Arizona has, the blonde smiles wide as Webber calls out another strike.

"Time." Erica states, then stands and jogs out to the mound to have a word with her pitcher. Roughly slamming the ball back into Arizona's glove, the taller woman growls "What the hell was that?"

"Slipped." Arizona says innocently with a shrug of her shoulders, even those she knows Hahn doesn't believe a word of it.

"You pitch what I sign, got it?" The older woman states.

"Yes, ma'am." The pitcher answers, adding a small and very sarcastic salute at the end.

The Latina, who has been watching the battle between the three women from the on-deck circle, just laughs quietly to herself and mumbles "Battleship indeed."

When Erica is back behind the plate, she calls from a fastball low and inside. Not wanting to test the authority of her co-captain too much too soon, Arizona complies and sends a heater right into her glove.

"Ball." Webber announces, making Arizona purse her lips. Amelia and Arizona battle it out a couple more pitches, but soon, a sneaky little change up makes the skilled veteran swing way too early with results in a loud "Strike Three!" from their head coach. As Erica sends the ball flying to third and around the horn, Amelia stalks off the dirt, grumbling the entire way.

"What was that?" Callie asks, hearing a few of the very mean words her pitcher was mumbling to herself.

"Batter up!" Webber announces before the Latina can press the She-Shepard anymore. Callie gives the shorter brunette one more look before stepping on to the dirt and glances down the third base line. She doesn't need to because her sign is always the same, Coach Shepard knows better than to try and contain the beast that is Calliope Torres. With a 'swing away' sign, the Latina steps into the batter's box and gets set.

A rush races down Arizona's spine as Torres turns her look of concentration and determination towards the pitcher's mound. Taking a step off the rubber, needing a minute to compose herself, Arizona turns her back to Erica and Callie. The blonde behind the plate chuckles, but quickly stifles it when Callie gives her friend a warning look. A second later Arizona turns back around and takes her stance. Accepting the first sign, she winds up and lets it rip. The Latina lays off it, and takes the strike as well as the two balls that follow. One of the reasons Callie is such a star hitter is the fact she has an eagle eye for pitches. Spending game in and game out catching means you get a read on those who stand on the mound. The Latina can spot a change up a mile away, as well as the subtle difference of release between a rise or a drop. That, plus the added fact that she can outline the strike zone with both eyes closed and standing on her head, she's a tough batter to take out.

"3-1." Webber calls the count after Callie watches another pitch barely miss the strike zone. The batter gives Arizona a cocky little smile, just playing with the newcomer while she has the blonde on the ropes. Another pitch, and this time it's just the one the Latina has been waiting for. With a twist of her strong hips, powerful arms bring the aluminum bat around like perfection and connect with leather. Brown eyes watch the hit, and follows through with power. All eyes watch as the yellow ball bounces off their co-captains bat and flies through the air. Only to land on the other side of the fence.

"Jesus…" Arizona breathes out, watching the ball during its entire journey.

As Callie rounds first at a nice, leisurely pace, brown eyes find blue and the Latina gives her newest teammate a wink. Arizona can't help but smile ruefully back at her captain, and takes the walk off homerun in stride.

* * *

AN2: So Arizona and Amelia seem to… not getting along. Surprise? And Arizona and Erica? Also not getting along. While Callie watches it all from the outside. Will she finally step in, or let the blonde fight for herself?


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: I know I know, long time no update. But it took a while to get the pace right. Here's the next chapter, hope you all enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 7

"It's open!" Callie yells over the din of conversation already happening in her apartment. It's date night with the team, and it's time for it to be held in Apartment 16. Glancing over her shoulder, she sees Charlotte and April walk in, closely followed by Teddy and Arizona. It's been a few days since the two pitchers standoff, and the rivals have stayed away from each other since. Amelia is still seething at the thought of her second striking her out. Even more pissed that the blonde was able to get a base off of her. Granted, Callie should have been quicker on the slap, but still… that base counted against Amelia's record.

"Wow! What smells so good?" Teddy asks, coming up behind one of her captains and peeking over Callie's shoulder.

"Back off Altman, it's not ready yet." Torres plays, gently pushing the first baseman out of the tiny kitchen of her apartment. It's not usual practice for a team member to cook for the rest of the team, but then again, most of the women on the team can't cook like the Latina can. Besides the ball diamond, Callie spends her time messing around in the kitchen. Something about combining individual ingredients, each playing their part, and coming out with a winning meal makes her smile. And no, the metaphor is not lost on the first string catcher as her brown eyes scan the apartment busting at the seams with starving team mates. Each of them their own ingredient, needing others to work with them, play off them, to make the end result perfect.

"Hey boss." A pure voice says, pulling the Latina up from the multiple pans covering the stove top. Blue and brown eyes lock, exchanging a small smile neither of them realizes they are giving. "You got something to drink around here?"

"Yeah, pop's in the fridge. Wine on top. And water at the tap." Callie answers, sending the blonde a wink. One that Arizona immediately recognizes from their little scrimmage from practice a couple days ago.

Within twenty minutes, every player has arrived and found a seat. Crammed onto the couch, sitting in chairs, a few finding a comfortable place on the floor, the all settle in for what should be a good night of team bonding. Arizona has found a small group of women who she gets along with, and tries to remain civil while around Amelia and Hahn. The few practices following their scrimmage, those two had been even more icy that usual. Which surprised Arizona because she didn't' think that was even possible.

The two pitchers meet glances a couple times throughout the evening, and Arizona can't help but remember a couple words of wisdom given to her by some veteran players. Don't let her get to you. Show her you can step up. Give her a piece of her own game. Prove you belong. All these things have been running through her mind. Try as she might during practice, Arizona Robbins knows it's going to take something bigger, something more dangerous to get these women to see her as an equal. So, the newcomer has been hatching a plan. And tonight, she intends to implement it.

Seeing that Amelia is deep in conversation with Addison Montgomery, Arizona decides that now is the time to make a move. As sneakily as possible, the blonde grabs the nearly full bottle of coke Shepard has beside her and then turns her back, blocking her hands from Amelia's line of sight. Pulling out an already rigged line of mento's, a line of floss run through the middle of four mints, Arizona opens the coke and slips the Mento's into the bottle. Replacing the cap, screwing it so that the floss keeps the mints held just over the liquid, Arizona puts the Coke back where she found it. The newcomer isn't one for pranks, Arizona thinking that they are stupid, mean and pointless, but she's been pushed too far. And especially by Amelia. Even though the pitcher denies she let the air out of Arizona's tires, Robbins knows it was her.

"What are you doing?" Someone whispers so close to Arizona's ear that it makes her jump. Blue eyes flick to those of her best friend, Teddy.

"Nothing…" The newcomer tries to cover while inconspicuously moving out of range from her little trick. Teddy, not ever being accused of being a slow person, follows her new friend. The first baseman is just about to continue her interrogation when Amelia grabs her bottle of pop and undoes the lid. Without seeing it, she dislodges the floss and the mentos fall into the dark liquid. Brown foam explodes, hitting Amelia dead in the face along with drenching everything and everyone in three foot radius.

"What the FUCK!" Amelia yells, shocked still and now very sticky. April, Addison, and Little Grey also very wet now, coke dripping from their clothes and hair, not to mention the soaked couch, dripping walls and ruined dinner in their laps.

Everyone in the apartment is stunned, no one knowing what exactly happened but all seeing the damage that has been left behind. Brown eyes of a certain catcher are wide, taking stock of her now ruined living room. But when a giggle slips from between pink lips, growing in strength and persistence, followed by a throatier laugh from Teddy Altman, all eyes turn to the two friends. Arizona's eyes are tearing up as she laughs her ass off, Altman bent in half as she clutches at her side.

"YOU!" Amelia shrieks, then lunges up from the couch with only one thought in mind. And that is to throttle this blonde bitch who has done nothing but show her up. But before the brunette can get her hands on the blonde, her senior first baseman steps between the two, shielding Arizona with her body.

"Calm down, Shepard." Teddy says during her battle to get a hold of herself.

"Calm down? Calm DOWN?" The She-Shepard shrieks. "She's RUINED my clothes, and not to mention our couch."

"How about we call it even, since it cost a small fortune to have my Jeep towed to the nearest air pump." Arizona fires back, hackles raised and ready to go 12 rounds with her competition.

"You really want to start with me Alaska?" Amelia snaps, meeting piercing blue eyes dead on. "Because if you want to go, we'll go."

"Please…" Arizona sneers, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms across her chest. "I grew up with the name Arizona, I know how to fight dirty on the playground."

"Is that a challenge?" The brunette asks, taking a step forward into the newcomer's personal space.

"I'm handing out lollipops and ass whoopings. And I'm all out of lollipops!" Arizona exclaims, puffing her chest up and bumping against the taller woman guarding her. Since she was a tyke, Arizona was taught to never back down from a fight. Sure, she doesn't go looking for it, but she's not afraid to swap a little skin when the times call for it.

"Bring it on, Nancy!" Amelia shouts back, taking a step towards the Mento's assaulter.

"Woah!" Callie shouts, jumping into action and placing herself in front of Teddy, who is still guarding a seething Arizona. "How about you take a walk, Shepard." The Latina suggests, urging the sticky woman towards the apartment door.

Looking past her catcher and captain, Ameila finds the raging blue eyes staring back at her and starts "You are so-"

"NOW!" Callie yells, cutting her pitcher off and pointing a strong finger towards the waiting front door. "And don't come back until you've gotten a hold of yourself." If looks could kill, the Latina would be struck down on the spot by her pitcher. Rage seething within her, Amelia turns on her heel and barrels through the mass of women looking all, all mouths agape in shock. The door bursts open and Shepard greets the balmy night air with a scream of anger.

Back inside, Callie surveys the damage to her living room. Arizona, now feeling slightly less sure of her little prank but determined to not show it, stands at full height, daring anyone to say something to her. Both April and Lexie are frozen, wondering how they got wrapped up into this little feud. Addison is well on her way to getting pissed off, but is grateful that she wasn't wearing her newest designer blouse and skirt, instead a set of practice clothes.

"Dinner's over." The Latina finally announces. "Everyone… out." Surprisingly, no one argues. Maybe it's because most of the places to sit are now drenched in sticky brown liquid. Arizona takes a step towards the door, but a strong hand on the back of her shirt halts her mid stride. "Not you." Callie growls, taking deep breaths to calm herself. When just four women are left in the apartment, the catcher directs "Addison, go take a shower. Naomi… just go."

The redhead and Campbell pause for a second; unsure of what their captain has in store for their newest teammate. Sure, it was mean and caught some innocent people in the cross fire. But it was also awesome. Callie wouldn't reprimand Arizona because she fought back, would she?

"Now!" Torres exclaims, making both women jump and head off in separate directions. Brown eyes turn to blue and Arizona does her best to keep a blank expression. She has this thing about authority figures, and right now her captain looks like she's about to tear Robbins a new asshole.

The Latina studies the woman in front of her. By all accounts, Arizona is perfect. Meaning, she fits with this team. Whether they like it or not, Arizona is one of them. She's a fighter, a winner. Doesn't give up. Keeps pushing. That's the kind of grit Callie wants her team made up of. But still… she has to make an example of the fact that she will NOT allow open hostility like that play a part of this team.

"Sponges are under the sink, vacuum is in the coat closet. Teddy has a rug cleaner up in your guys' apartment that you can use on the couch." Callie finally says. "This room better be spotless before I wake up tomorrow, or the whole team will be running Stadium all because of your little prank. Is that understood?" The two women are not even a foot apart, dark brown staring down into glassy blue.

"Got it, boss." Arizona shakily replies, blinking back tears that are threatening to fall. When the captain finally breaks their staring contest and takes a couple steps back towards her bedroom, a sigh of relief falls from pink lips.

She turns to go get the rug cleaner from her apartment upstairs, but stops when Callie calls "Hey Robbins."

"Yeah?" The blonde asks, chancing one last look at those powerful orbs that seem to freeze her in place.

"Nice one." Sending another wink to the pitcher, the Latina turns and heads off to bed. A dimpled smile breaks across the lone face left in the living room, and try as she might, Arizona can't contain the little happy dance that bursts out.

* * *

Its Sunday morning, the second day off Arizona Robbins has had. She's been a part of Team USA for a week and a half. They only have one week left of practice before touring the states for a couple weeks, before finally jetting off to London for the Olympic Games. Her little stunt in Amelia's apartment three days ago has not been forgotten. To say that the blonde has been peeking over her shoulder at night is not an exaggeration. But where it has pissed Amelia off even more, it has made the rest of the team warm up to her greatly. Apparently all the blonde needed to do was show the girls that she is not one to fuck with. Now, nearly all of her teammates are openly friendly. But still, there are a few hold outs. Namely, Hahn and the She-Shepard.

When she woke up this morning, Arizona decided to spend a while at that cute little coffee place just down the road. The blonde wakes up early naturally, and she was not really in the mood to sit around a messy living room, trying to stay quiet so the rest of her roommates could sleep in until noon. So, Arizona packed up her laptop and made the quick trip to the java joint, which is where she is currently sipping on a coffee and just enjoying a free morning without practice, workouts, or running an ungodly number of stairs.

But when blue eyes glance up and towards the large bay windows, the morning sun cascading through their panes, Arizona's gaze falls upon a breathtakingly stunning Latina who is just striding through the front door. Callie had awoken about an hour and a half ago, much to her dismay, so taking life by the horns, she decided to go for a run. During her cool down, which consists of a nice steady jog up and down this block, her eyes immediately spied the blonde through the coffee shops window and on impulse decided that a latte would be a perfect post run beverage.

The newcomer's gaze is locked on the sweaty catcher approaching, and when Callie turns a full force smile her way, Arizona growls "Sweet baby Jesus…"

"Fancy meeting you here… again." The sweaty catcher says, taking the free seat across from the blonde without asking this time. Finding the gaze of one of the barista's, Callie motions for her regular order then turns her attention back to the blonde in front of her.

"Yeah, what a surprise. Our coffee maker is on the fritz and this is the nearest coffee joint to the Quads." The pitcher sneers, taking a long drag on her piping hot coffee while shutting her laptop closed. The blonde doesn't hold her captain responsible for the little punishment she was given. After all, all that Coke DID make a mess of their apartment. But still… it sucked.

A gorgeous smile spreads across plump lips, and Arizona's stomach start to do funny flips. "What?"

"Nothing." Callie answers, brushing the question off as she accepts her own coffee order. Blue eyes watch as caramel flesh moves over a beautiful neck, straining and contracting as her captain takes a swallow of delicious coffee beans. The ring of sweat that has collected around the purple tank top does little to put off the blonde. In fact, it works for the Latina, making images of a woman riving under Arizona touch form, a different kind of sweat forming over their flesh.

Only when blue eyes flick back up to plump, naked lips, and she sees them moving does Arizona realize she has zoned out and is now just staring at what has to be the most beautiful woman she has ever seen. "I'm sorry, what did you say?" Robbins asks, shaking out the haze that has seemed to collect in her mind.

"I said…" Callie draws, a smile upturning her lips "…That you must have balls the size of Texas to pull that little prank on Shepard. …Metaphorically, of course." A sultry wink is sent to the blonde across the table as Callie mentally adds 'because you are most definitely all woman'.

"I just got fed up at being treated as a second class citizen. Seems she can't take as good as she gives." Arizona replies, taking a sip of her coffee in attempt to remain calm and collected. "Between Shepard and Hahn, I'm not so sure I'm actually WELCOMED on this team."

"What's wrong with Erica?" Callie asks, now very interested in what her newest teammate has to say. The Latina is aware that the blonde is not everyone's favorite, but no one has ever come out and said that Erica isn't a good leader. She's strong, and determined, and knows what she wants. Sure, she has a different attitude about her position than Callie, but that just makes their pairing all the better. When Callie lacks, Erica rises. And when Erica lacks, Callie is there, picking up the slack.

Arizona mulls over her choice of words for a moment, but then decides against it. There are rumors, only a few, but the newcomer has heard them. The pitcher doesn't want to believe it, but there are rumors that Hahn and Torres are a bit more than just friends. That they share positions other than just co-captains.

"Nothing." Robbins finally says, replacing her cup back on the table between them.

"Doesn't sound like nothing." Callie replies, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow, just daring the newcomer to say what she has to say.

"Nothing I can't get over." Arizona amends her statement, sending a forced dimpled smile to the Latina across from her. But those brown eyes, so full of life and wisdom, stare right into the blonde's soul. Almost like Callie is reaching a hand within Arizona's mind and pulling out all those little secrets that no one ever wants anyone else to know.

With a sigh, breaking first from their staring contest, Arizona concedes. "She… I…" The blonde tries to find a nice way to put it, struggling greatly. "We just don't work." The pitcher finally explains. "She fights me… every pitch. You KNOW that each pitcher has their own style, their own… rhythm. Erica hasn't… adjusted to mine."

"Have you told her?" Callie asks, pulling up her best diplomatic face. It's this face that makes her such a good captain, because anyone can talk to her. And her teammates trust her to act without emotion. If something is going on, no matter whom it is, Callie will call them on it.

"Not in so many words…" Robbins grumbles, staring at the bottom of her coffee cup. "But I know I'm not the only one who's picked up on it. I mean… you've seen us work. Do we look comfortable together? Like… AT ALL?" The catcher scrutinizes the blonde for a second, digesting her words and thinking the question over.

Finally, a throaty chuckle fills the small café, and a raven ponytail swings from side to side as Callie shakes her head. "No. …No, not really." Finding the gaze of one of the barista's, the Latina asks "Can we have two more, please?" Then turning back to the blonde, she adds "Erica can be difficult."

"You think?" Arizona growls.

Laughing lightly, Callie replies "Well… telling her to get her 'fat ass back behind the plate' doesn't really help things." Referring to one of the more heated pitching practices they have had. Arizona and Erica nearly tore each other's head off before Sloan called it quits for the day.

"Neither does describing my form as an epileptic kid on crack." The blonde fires back, making the Latina laugh all over again. "I told Sloan that my knuckle was crap, and I'm working on it but, Jesus… she was just being rude."

"You're not driving off right." The Latina says before she knows what she's doing.

"Really?" The blonde asks, suddenly very interested in this conversation. "That's… that's it? I'm not driving off the rubber right?"

"Well, I'm no coach, but I have caught for my share of pitchers. The only thing I can see you doing wrong is your push off." The catcher answers, chugging half of her second cup of coffee. When she looks back up at Arizona, she sees the blonde deep in thought, almost as if she is already hard at work during practice. A smile itches at the Latina's lips, glad to know that she, herself, is the only one obsessed at being the best.

"You know…" The catcher drawls, pulling the blonde back into real life. "…if you don't have any plans today, I'd be happy to catch for you if you wanted to put some work in."

Shocked at the actual offer of assistance, Arizona babbles "I, I… I thought… Sloan said no extra pitches between practices."

With a simple wave of her hand, Callie answers "What Mark doesn't know won't hurt him. I'm not saying you pitch yourself out, I was just suggesting that we work on your push off a bit." The blonde's brow furrows, weighing the offer to that of what would happen if her coach caught her going against direct orders. Sensing the internal struggle, the Latina purrs "Fine… if you don't want my help…" She starts to stand, feigning like she is about to leave.

"Wait!" Arizona yelps, reaching out and grabbing a caramel forearm. "Ok." She adds, quickly letting go of the Latina because her fingertips feels all… tingly. "You free now?"

"Nope." Callie says with a smile, then laughs when a pout crosses the pitchers face. "I have to go to the trainer, then I have a meeting with the coaches. But how about we meet at the diamonds at, say… 2?" Blonde locks wave as Arizona nods yes. "Good, see ya then." With a wink, and a twenty to cover the cost of both of the players' coffee, Callie strides out of the café, all the while blue eyes trained on a very shapely ass.

* * *

"Hey, Robbins! Where you headed off to?" Teddy asks her friend and newest teammate as she is running around with her hair on fire. Arizona's phone, which should have awoken her at 130 to give her plenty of time to be ready to meet Callie at 2, decided not to. So her Sunday nap stretched on a little longer than planned and Arizona is rushing to meet her secret rendezvous on time.

"I uhhh… I'm meeting someone." Arizona answers, not really sure what kind of secret meet up this it. Did everyone do a little work on the side? Was it one of those don't ask, don't tell kind of rules that seemed to make up the dating situation on the team. Because Teddy and Owen are definitely flirting with that line now-a-days. If it wasn't for an ill-timed entrance to the storage shed, Arizona was sure that those two would have been making out like a couple of teenagers.

Muting the baseball game that is blaring on their large screen TV, Teddy perks up. "Ohh, hot date? At…" Then she looks at the clock, a confused expression crossing her face "2 in the afternoon?"

"Hot? Yes. Date? No." Arizona mumbles to herself as she tries to pull her long blonde hair up into a ponytail that looks nice, but not nice enough that it looks like she was trying. After all, this IS just a friendly practice session between friends.

"What did you say?" Teddy yells so her voice can make it to the bathroom, which is where Arizona is frantically applying some lip gloss. Why? She doesn't know. She'll no doubt be sweating in a couple minutes anyways.

"Nothing, Teds. I'll see you later." The blonde spits out, grabbing her bag then rushing out the apartment door, not bothering to take the time to lock it behind her. Running full out across the parking lot in front of their apartments, then crossing the road and hitting gravel that leads to the ball diamonds, cruses fall from pink lips as rocks make their way into her sandals.

Callie, who has been sitting under the shade of one of the many large trees, looks up from her phone as she hears a string of not so nice words being growled. Perfect teeth bite her bottom lip as brown eyes watch a frazzled blonde turn the corner and come into view. Hoping around on one leg, ridding the other shoe of pointy rocks, then trying to get said shoe back on bare foot, all while on the move, is probably the most hilarious thing the Latina has ever seen. Arizona's ungraceful appearance, hindered even more by the heavy and awkward bag over her strong shoulders, it too much for the usually calm catcher. Giving up her fight, a full bodied laugh falls from plump lips, making blue eyes flash up to her audience just as a blush races across fair skin.

"Awesome." Arizona growls to herself.

"You're late, Robbins." Callie says to the approaching blonde, feigning displeasure at having to wait even though there was nothing the Latina would rather be doing. What can she say? She loves the game.

"Sorry, boss." The blonde says, quickly taking a seat in the soft grass and changing out her sandals for her cleats. Callie pulls on her shin guards and mask, preferring not to sweat her ass of in the full suit on her day off is she doesn't have to, and takes her place behind the bull pin's home plate. After a couple minutes of warm up, Arizona starts to throw heater after heater. All the while, Callie watches the pitchers form. When the blonde starts working on her problem pitches, the Latina pipes up when she sees something off. Just a word here, a gesture there, and before Arizona knows it she is throwing knuckle after knuckle.

Sweat is pouring down both of their backs and face when Callie deems Arizona good. They head back over to the old tree and sit, sipping on a cold bottle of Gatorade while they recover. Arizona can't help but think how much easier it was pitching to Callie, how it didn't feel like a tryout. Because that's all it ever is with Hahn. Constantly proving herself to the older blonde that Arizona belongs on this team, that she has the right to be pitching to one of the best catchers in the country. But Callie? It was… natural.

"Good work, Robbins." The Latina says, playfully nudging the blonde's shoulder. Brown eyes scan the pitcher while she takes a drag of orange Gatorade, a couple drops leaking out from the side of her mouth and flowing down a smooth neck. Arizona chose a tank top to work out in today, showing off the pink and purple butterfly that is inked onto the flesh over her right shoulder.

Callie smiles, shaking her slightly at the choice of tattoo this woman chose. But as she looks closer, something catches her attention. Arizona freezes when she feels a single finger tracing the skin of her shoulder.

"Is that a scar?" The words are so soft that if it weren't for the fact Callie was sitting right next to Arizona, lips not a foot from the blonde's ear, Arizona wouldn't have heard them.

"Yeah." The pitcher answers, making brown eyes flash up to blue. Callie Torres may not be a doctor, but she's been playing ball long enough to know what injuries go with what positions. Catchers get concussions, broken bones from runners barreling into them. First base men get stomped ankles from base runners going full charge through the bag. Shortstop acquire tendinitis is their elbows from the quick action, and very unnatural, throwing they do. And pitchers… they throw out their shoulders.

"When?" The Latina asks, eyes flashing back down to the stained flesh, the faint scar barely visible through the purple of the butterflies wing.

"First year of college." The blonde answers, looking away from her captain and towards the empty field just waiting to be played on. "Actually, it was pre-season my first year. …Never played a single inning."

"That's why Sloan couldn't find any stats on you." The catcher states, more to herself than to the blonde. One of the biggest things Coach Sloan brought up during their morning meeting was the fact that their newest star was seemingly unknown. There were no records of an Arizona Robbins that played in college. And when you have talent like Arizona Robbins… you PLAY in college.

The ringing of Callie's phone breaks the tense silence, and the Latina, not so smoothly, fishes the cell out of her bag. Taking the distraction as a means to get some distance, Arizona stands and grabs her bag, throwing it over her shoulder to walk back to the quads. Brown eyes watch as her newest team member starts to shuffle back towards their apartment complex.

Quickly ending the call, Callie bolts up and packs her bag. "Robbins, hold on." She exclaims, making the blonde freeze. Jogging to catch up, the catcher falls in step with the pitcher and they continue back to their living quarters. "You got any plans tonight?" The Latina asks.

"Uhhh, no. Planned on grabbing some food from the caf, then doing alittle stu-" Arizona catches herself before letting the word slip. Callie hears her hesitation and gives the newcomer a look of confusion. "I mean… just chill around the apartment for a while. Why?"

"A couple of the girls are going out tonight. If you're up for it, you are welcome to join us." Callie answers, feigning nonchalance about the whole thing. But inside, she desperately hopes Robbins says yes.

"When you say a couple, who does that entail… exactly?" The blonde asks, weighing her options and needing to know who she would be spending 'extra' time with. Arizona has spent used a lot of effort staying away from those few who really don't like her right now.

"Me… and a few others." The catcher says, but when blue eyes beg for further information, Callie concedes. "Hahn, Amelia, Monty, ummm… probably the Twisted Sisters. Maybe Charlotte and Naomi." Brown eyes catch the slight grimace Arizona gives as she listens to the list of names, nearly half being those who don't care for the new girl or those that were on the receiving end of her little coke prank not three days ago. "So?"

"I…. I don't know, Calliope." Arizona replies, not catching the slip of Callie's full name. But the Latina does, and what surprises her more than the fact that the blonde said it so naturally is that Callie doesn't mind it. Not when Arizona is the one saying it.

"Oh come on Alabama." The Latina pleads, giving the pitcher a light punch on her shoulder, making her smile. "You know you want to. Besides… you don't need to worry about the other mean kids. I'll be there to keep you safe."

Thinking that a nice night out on the town would be just the thing to get in better with some of the harder women on the team, Arizona finally agrees. "Well… it does sound like a good time. And as long as I got you as a body guard, I'm game."

Brown eyes catch blue as they slowly make their way back to the Quads. A smile plays across pink lips, making a funny feeling swelling in the pit of the Latina's stomach. "Great. Be ready at 8." Callie says, then adds a sultry wink for good measure.

* * *

AN2: So… was it worth the wait? Arizona got some revenge on Amelia. She and Callie got some quality alone time. Found out a little bit about Arizona's past. It's all coming together. Next chapter? Their night out on the town. What kind of shenanigans will arise once alcohol is involved, and inhibitions are lowered. Stay tuned folks!


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: The wait is over! At least for this chapter. Took me a while to find a muse, but finally one popped up last night takes to the great twitterverse. Anyways, hope this chapter is worth the wait. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 8

What was supposed to be just a handful of players getting together at a local watering hole turned into a whole team outing. When April accidentally overheard Charlotte on the phone with Amelia, chatting away about their night out, the red head let the word spread. Now, as Arizona is striding through the door with Teddy at her side, blue eyes scan the bar and find almost everyone already there. This is the newcomers first time really out on the town, and is surprised to find what kind of establishment her team mates like to hangout at. She was figuring some sort of downtown club scene, with men and women humping each other silly on the dance floor. But this small dive bar, affectionately called Joe's by everyone she's heard talk about, is cozy and comfortable.

"This is it?" Arizona asks, stopping just inside the door and surveying the scene. The lights shed a warm glow over the entire crowd, a lit up jute box in the far corner and on the other side a pair of dart boards that look well used.

"This is it!" Teddy exclaims, clapping her newest friend on the shoulder. The door opens and closes behind them, and Charlotte King barges right between the two blondes, intent on making her way to the bar as quickly as possible. "Don't mind her. For a couple of these women, drinking is a sport of its own. …And they don't like to lose."

"Noted." The shorter blonde murmurs, scanning the bar for a particular patron. When her eyes fall upon one Callie Torres, a dimpled grin can't help but push its way onto the pitchers face.

The door opens and closes again, and this time it's the Twisted Sisters that barge right in between the two blondes. "Move it!" Yang barks, with Meredith Grey right on her tail.

"Also a player?" Arizona asks while she follows Teddy to an empty table close to the bar, discreetly pointing to the outfielders who have taken a whole bottle of tequila from behind the bar, forgoing shot glasses completely.

"Oh yeah." Teddy answers, then signals to the bartender for two. Two of what, Arizona doesn't know but she's not about to turn away liquor.

Callie had been at the bar for a little over a half an hour and had already downed two shots of tequila, and is now sipping on her rum and coke. Sitting at a seat where she has the best view of the front door, she's seen every one of her players enter the bar. At first the Latina was upset, this was supposed to be just a few getting together and hanging out. No tension, no inter-team drama. But now that the entire team is here, there is no chance of anyone getting upset that they weren't invited.

Addison, Amelia, Naomi and Erica are also sitting with the Latina, their attentions turned to the story Amelia is reenacting while the rest of their team mates filter in. The catcher keeps a watchful eye out, and when a certain head of blonde hair appears, her body wrapped in a delicious pair of black jeans and a tight blue shirt, a mysterious flutter fills the brunette's stomach. Sure, she's felt these feelings before. More recently, she's felt them towards women. It took her a while to accept that fact, but now she is completely secure in the knowledge that she is drawn to both sexes. But what surprises her is that these feelings have erupted after such a short time. …And towards a teammate. The Latina never mixes business with pleasure. Well… not after that one time. Yet there she is, standing tall and proud. Arizona Robbins, the woman she can't have.

"Hey Torres…" Erica says, shoving her co-captains arm and breaking the woman out of her daze. "You still with us?"

"I'm getting another round. Want one?" Callie asks, getting for nods in return. Fighting her way through the light crowd, she hits the bar just as the object of her daze makes it. "Robbins…" The Latina greets her.

"Boss." Arizona replies with a dimpled smile. "He always take this long to fill drinks?" The blonde asks, nodding her head towards the slammed Joe who is busy pouring order after order.

"What you want?" Callie asks, rounding the bar like she owns the place and pulls out the bottle of tequila with five shot glasses for her table.

"Whatever you're making." The blonde replies, then watches as the Latina expertly pours shot after shot.

"Hey Torres! What did I say about being behind the bar?" Joe shouts over the din of the crowd.

"Shut your gravy hole, Joe. I'm not selling it." Callie yells back, making the bar owner smile and shake his head. Arizona just watches on in amusement, enjoying this looser and more entertaining side of Callie Torres. Brown eyes flick up from the shot glasses she is pouring out and find blue ones watching her intently.

"Here…" She says, handing her newest teammate a glass then taking one herself. "Cheers." Callie adds, raising her glass and clinking it with the blondes before downing it. Arizona shoots her shot back as well, the burn of her second drink scorching a path down her throat.

Quickly refilling the two glasses, Callie puts them all on a tray and sends a wink to the blonde. "Glad you could make it out tonight, Battleship." With that, the Latina heads back to her table, blue eyes watching her all the way. Shaking herself from her daze, Arizona grabs the drinks Callie poured out for her and takes them back to her roommate.

"What the hell took you so long?" Teddy asks while grabbing her shot and throwing it back.

Back at her table, Callie passes out the shots and takes another down in a single drag. The night is on its way, and everyone is planning to let loose and have a good time. Tomorrows practice won't be all too fun, being out in the hot sun and working their asses off, but by the time Tuesday comes rolling around, all minds will be set on the next Sunday night when they can all party again. Arizona decides to play it safe tonight and not get too wasted. This is her first night out with the team and she doesn't want to get sloppy. When drunk, the blonde usually gets a little handsy and starts to feel on every woman. Gay or not. And that's not the picture she wants her teammates to have of her.

Teddy, on the other hand, has no qualms about downing as much alcohol her lanky body can take. "He's just so hot!" She exclaims at the top of her lungs, shouting over the roam of a rocking jute box.

"Hunt?" Robbins asks, trying to keep up with random conversation she is having with the inebriated woman next to her.

"Yeah!" Altman answers, then starts to fall into a fit of giggles. "Oh god… I swear I want to pull him into a locked room and do things with him that are only legal in 48 states." Blue eyes go wide as she listens to her friend describe the very indecent things she has in mind for her crush. "You know, we knew each other in college…" The now tipsy, nearly drunk first base man opens up. "…never bumped uglies though. Nope… never got that far. Think the carpet matches the drapes? Isn't his red hair sexy? Like a fire. …Or a jolly rancher. A cherry Jolly Rancher… that I want to suck on…" The taller blonde drawls, twisting a lock of hair around her fingers and having that doe-eyed dream girl look on her face.

"Mmm." Arizona hums, feigning interest in the conversation.

"You know… I'm going to call him." Teddy announces, then goes to pull out her cell phone from her bag.

"NO!" The newcomer yelps, reaching across the table and upending a beer in the process but successfully snags the cell from her friend. The front of her shirt is soaked, but Arizona is relieved with the fact Teddy won't make a COMPLETE fool of herself tonight, just a little.

"Little Grey!" The blonde calls, making a brunette with glassy eyes turn and find blue. "Can you watch her while I go wring some of this beer out of my shirt?" Lexie just nods and smiles, handing Teddy another shot of some sort of alcohol. Yang is now behind the bar, making up her own drinks so who knows what exactly is in their drinks now, but Arizona doubts she's ever seen any drinks quite the color blue as the liquid now being poured down Teddy's throat.

On the other side of the bar, Callie is thoroughly enjoying her night out. Meaning Tequila, and lots of it. Her teammates keep pace for a while, but with hot Latina blood coursing through her veins, she soon out shoots them and is feeling all sorts of warm and fuzzy feelings. The racking music hits her senses and the catcher just needs to dance. Oblivious to the steel blue eyes on her, Callie Torres finds a spot on the small dance floor and shakes her tight body like there is no tomorrow.

Addison, not completely toasted from her many Vodka Tonic's, sees Hahn eying her friend and chances "She's pretty, huh."

"She's beautiful." Erica sighs, heart throbbing to reach out and touch the beautiful creature dancing before her. A smirk plays across the red heads face, glancing between swaying Latina and pining blonde. Callie has told Addison about the latest developments in her… love life. That she has expanded outside of the male sex. Not a lot of people know, mainly because Callie likes to keep her personal life close to her chest. But those rumors floating around about her and Hahn are only half true. Yes, Callie is into girls nowadays. But no, she and Hahn have never been a thing. At least, Callie has never told her. Could Erica be that mystery woman? The one who 'saw leaves' with Callie?

"You should go dance with her." Addison pokes while demurely sipping on the tiny red straw of her drink. The thought stews in Erica, and the blonde stands from the table just as blue eyes watch a man approach her object of desire.

"Wanna dance?" The man asks, leaning a bit closer into Callie's personal space than she would normally like. But with the tequila running through her veins, she doesn't much mind now.

"Not with you…" The Latina growls, placing a hand on the man's solid chest and giving it a shove back. Enticing the stranger, Callie shakes her ass just a bit more, hips swaying to the beat and leaving everyone watching a bit breathless.

Bucking up his courage, the man steps forward again and asks "Come on, sweet cheeks. Just one dance. You won't regret it." He purrs into to the Latina's ear from behind, large hands finding hold on full hips and bringing the woman's body flush with his.

Erica watches from a distance, and when blue eyes see the man lay hands on HER woman, the third base man springs to action. Crossing the distance in six strides, she stands in front of the dancing couple, Callie nearly oblivious to the man's hands running over her hips and ass. But when dark eyes lock with angry blue, a smile crosses plump lips and she holds out a hand. Erica quickly takes it and yanks the catcher away from the grasp of the still unknown man, and into her arms. Their bodies mold together, pumping to the beat.

The man begins to get angry, but then sees how these two women move together and quickly decides that this could be even better. "Nice." He growls, then tries to jimmy his way between the two women's bodies but can't seem to make any head way. "Come on ladies, let Daddy play." The man purrs, rubbing his groin against the back of Hahn's body.

"You couldn't handle the two of us." The blonde bites back, turning the Latina away and spinning her back. Callie, alcohol blurring her mind, is vaguely aware of the confrontation going on and tries to sober her brain up just a bit. She knows she's dancing with Hahn, but it's nothing new. They've always danced together, they are friends. Best friends. Girlfriends. …Not girlfriends as in Girl on Girl girlfriends, but as in, a friend that is a girl.

"He's thinking about a threesome." Callie adds, a sexy smirk crossing her lips, one that makes Hahn subconsciously lick her lips.

"You're right." The man answers, grinning like a wolf who has picked out his sheep. "And I could SO handle the two of you. Trust me ladies, we would ALL be very satisfied customers." A throaty chuckle falls from painted red lips, brown eyes locked on the drooling man's face when a warm hand finds her cheek. Erica pulls Callie into a tight lip lock, both women's eyes closing on instinct and the man taking a small step back, mouth wide in surprise and delight.

Taking her cue from her co-captain, Callie wraps an arm around Erica's neck, pulling the woman in closer and deepening the kiss. A wine tainted tongue peeks out, swiping at the Latina's lips, requesting access. Going along with the charade to get the guy to leave, the catcher opens her mouth and allows Erica entrance. When the need for air consumes them, the co-captains break apart and turn their gaze to the man.

"Woah…" He breathes out, an noticeable bulge in his pants. "I'm game."

Erica growls under her breath, a hand still on Callie's hip and sends the man a death glare. The Latina, a little hazy from the alcohol and the kiss, decides she needs a minute to breathe. "Excuse me…" She murmurs, then pulls away from the grasp of the blonde and moves through the crowd in search of the bathroom. When she finally makes it to the dinky, two stall women's restroom, strong arms push the door open, knocking a half naked blonde right in the back.

"OW!" Arizona yelps, her chest being rammed into the hand dryer she is currently holding a soaked shirt up to in attempts to dry the spilt beer from her only nice outfit she brought.

"Oh! Sss-Sorry." Callie slurs, then stumbles on a heel when brown eyes see that her newest teammate is nearly naked from the waist up, only a blue lacy bra covering delicious breasts.

A hand shoots out, grabbing the Latina by the upper arm in attempts to help the intoxicated woman stay on her feet. "Woah, you alright Calliope?" Arizona asks, gently pushing the taller woman back to rest against the lip of the sink.

Tan hands grip the porcelain sink for dear life while blinking eyes closed hard, trying to push the thoughts and feelings from the kiss out of her mind. "Yeah. Just… one too many I guess." The Latina mumbles, then looks up and finds concerned blue eyes. "Why are you naked?"

A blush rushes across Arizona's cheeks, suddenly very aware of her lack of clothing and starts to pull the wet and wrinkled shirt back on. "Casualty from a saved attempt at drunken humiliation." The blonde answers, making Callie's brows arch in confusion. "Teddy was… well, let's just say my shirt got caught in the cross fire. But Altman's dignity is fully intact. At least… it was before I came in here."

"Ahh…" Torres breathes out, averting her eyes to give her newest teammate some privacy while pulling her shirt back on. She doesn't miss the slight swelling in the pit of her stomach at the view of even more flesh, but it's hard to pinpoint exactly where it comes from. Was it because Arizona was right in front of her, half naked? Or the kiss that was SO not a kiss two friends share, even for laughs? Or both, plus the added effects of tequila which has caused the normally cool and controlled Latina to feel like her nerve endings are on fire.

"Having a good time?" Callie asks, attempting to stand on her own accord. She silently curses herself for wearing such high heels, but then remembers that they make her legs and ass look FANTASTIC and therefore her reasoning for wearing them in the first place. …Not that she was dressing up for anyone in particular.

"It's… enlightening." The blonde smiles, dabbing a paper towel on her stomach to sop up as much moisture as she can before rejoining the party. "I guess softball isn't the ONLY thing you all take seriously." This makes Callie chuckle, filling the small bathroom with the sweet sound that makes Arizona tingle in delight. "What about you? You're not overdoing it, are ya Boss?" The blonde asks, turning inquisitive eyes to her captain.

"Ppsshh. Me? Over do?" Callie asks, giving her newest teammate a 'really?' look while leaning back against the sink again when she realizes standing still isn't really the best thing right now. "Never."

"Mmhmm." Arizona hums, the softly grabs the Latina by her chin and turns her face towards the light. Instantaneously, Callie's whole body starts to hum at the contact, but her muscles freeze. The blonde's eyes do a quick cursory exam, looking for any signs of too much over-drinking.

"What are you, a doctor or something?" Torres asks, trying to break the huge amount of tension now filling the air.

Just as Arizona opens her mouth to answer, the bathroom door busts open and in walks Amelia Shepard. The pitchers eyes furrow in confusion, taking in the way Arizona's outfit is wet and wrinkled and her grip on Callie's face, almost like the two of them were about to kiss.

"Am I interrupting something?" Amelia purrs, swaying slightly on her feet. She too has been enjoying their night and is well past being tipsy, and is now firmly in the land of DRUNK.

Callie jumps out of Arizona's reach, nearly falling flat on her ass in the process, but quickly rights herself and says "No. No, nothing. Wha-wha-what are you doing here, Little Shep?"

Dark eyes still flicking back and forth between her catcher and her competition, Amelia limply points to one of the bathroom stalls, silently answering Callie's question. Blue eyes fall to the ground as her fellow pitcher saunters closer and stumbles slightly as she enters one of the stalls, giving the two woman a hard look as she passes. The Latina tries to keep a look of nonchalance, but with the buzz of alcohol and the jolt of arousal now filling her body, she can't help but look a little guilty. Something a very shrewd Amelia Shepard picks up on.

Before closing and locking the stall door, Amelia adds "Oh, Alaska…" The blondes teeth grit, fists clenching as she grips the paper towel in one hand and the lips of the sink in the other. "I think your friend requires your assistance."

"Damn it, Teddy…" Arizona growls, then gives Callie a tight smile before nimbly exiting the bathroom, leaving a confused Latina behind.

The blonde gets back out into the crowd just as Teddy is about to take on bets that she can hit an olive off a toothpick stuck between Kepner's teeth with a dart. Saving April from the possible addition of a hole in her head, and maybe losing an eye, Arizona corrals the fun, but allows them to enjoy themselves. The night goes on, hour after hour passing, the more alcohol being drank, the wilder the fun. Cristina shows the newcomer exactly what it means to be a twisted sister by pulling Meredith up on the bar counter, dancing and slowly stripping off a shirt much to the delight of the guys huddled around.

Almost invariably, Addison and Meredith bump into each other, resulting in yelling, crying and some shoving. Callie, though drunk as a sailor home on leave, pulls the red head off the small women before she can go all cage fighter on Grey's ass. All the while, Cristina is off to the side, laughing her ass off. April starts up a drinking game with Lexie, quizzing each other on college softball teams and whenever someone gets the answer wrong, they shoot a drink. Not so surprisingly, Lexie wins by the fistful, burying April in an amount of vodka nobody should be able to handle. All the while, Callie makes sure to stay a considerable distance from Arizona but never keeping her gaze from that blue eyed blonde too long.

Amelia and Charlotte hang together most of the night, cruising every guy that comes close to them. They have more turns out on the dance floor than Fred Astaire, but they always return to the bar for another round. All in all, everyone is drunk off their asses, and when Joe calls last call, they all stock up like it's the start of prohibition. At just past one, Joe calls it a night and shoos the entire Team USA softball team unceremoniously out of his door and locks up. The team, all drunk as a skunk besides Arizona, who is slightly tipsy and being the most sober, call up a couple taxies.

"What a night…" Addison groans, leaning back against the glass side of a bus stop while they wait.

"Tomorrow is gonna suck!" April screeches.

"You know how you skip the hangover?" Cristina asks, swaying on her feet as she stares up at the clear Oklahoma city night sky. "Don't stop drinking." She states, and since everyone is well past their usual mental faculties, they all laugh their asses off. Finally a handful of taxi's show up and everyone crawls in.

"Let's go Cal, I'll get you home." Erica purrs, placing a hand a little more south on the Latina's body than Arizona likes.

"You don't live with me, Hahn." Callie states, giggling at some unknown thing passing through her mind.

"I got her." Arizona states, stepping up to the other side of her co-captain. "You're apartment is on the other side of town, Hahn. No since in going one way just to go back the other." The blonde adds, pulling on her best dimpled smile. Callie turns to the shorter woman and smiles a dopey smile, those dimples making her drunk mind all warm and fuzzy.

Bringing a single finger up to the newcomer's cheek, she pokes a dimple while singing "Bop." The Latina nearly doubles over as another laughing fit hits her, making Arizona laugh along with her. The sheer difference between this woman and the one who own the field from behind her home plate is astonishing, and the blonde can't decide which side she likes more. All the while, Erica watches their interaction and a swell of jealousy fills her body.

"Hey! Come on!" Cristina yells from within one of the cabs. "Some of us have a practice to NOT sleep for." By now, only Erica, Callie and Arizona are still standing, everyone else crammed into the back of the yellow vehicles.

Dark eyes turn to face Hahn, and a crooked smile crosses plump, tequila stained lips. That smile instantly calms the woman, remembering the way she tasted on Erica's lips and tongue. The way Callie's body felt pressing against her's. It was a risk, something she never thought she would do. But now she is glad she did.

Just as Erica thinks Callie may actually lean in for a good night kiss, the catcher brings up a hand and, not so softly in her drunken state, taps a rosy cheek. "See ya tomorrow." Callie slurs, then falls into the back of a cab, Arizona right on her heels. Erica watches as three taxi's head off into the night, taking the rest of her team back to the quads while she slides into the last cab and order it in the other direction, back to her apartment.

After the girls scrounge up enough money among the twelve of them to pay for their fares, they all filter off towards their rooms for some much needed sleep before their morning practice in just a few hours. Arizona hangs back, intent on following through with her promise to make sure Callie gets to bed alright. The Latina is stumbling terribly, and the blonde doesn't even want to know how much tequila the woman ingested tonight.

"I need something…" Callie mumbles, then heads the opposite direction from the rest of the team and towards her car. Arizona follows, arms at the ready just in case her captain feels like taking a face plant.

"This is a sweet car, Cal." Arizona muses, trying to fill the silence between the two. Callie just grunts in response, trying to find the right key to unlock the driver's side door. Blue eyes see her struggle and she deftly takes the keys from the fumbling tan hands, flesh briefly brushing each others in the exchange. "Here, I got it." Robbins murmurs, then quickly finds the correct key and inserts it in the door, unlocking it in a smooth motion.

The darkness of the night surrounds them, just the faint glow of a single security lamp in the parking lot illuminating the scene. Noise from the rest of the team is gone, telling Arizona that they all have found their way into their respective apartments. Callie fumbles around in her car, but finally finds what she was looking for and slips it in her purse. Her legs are less than helpful as she tries to pull herself out of the car, making another fit of giggles fall from her lips.

Arizona chuckles along with the Latina, then offers a hand for the inebriated woman and helps pull her out. Once the T-Bird is all locked up again, the two head back to their apartments for some much needed rest. Robbins sends up a silent thank you for the fact that Callie lives on the first floor, because she's not sure if she would be able to get the catcher up a whole flight of stairs. Another battle with the keys, which Arizona again intervenes, and they step… stumble… into apartment 16. The place is quiet, only the faint sounds of heavy sleeping coming from the other three inhabitants.

"Come on, boss. Let's get you to bed." Arizona whispers, guiding a swaying Callie through the living room. "Which way?" The blonde asks when reaching the point where she has to turn up either the left or right hallway. The Latina just giggles, then gives the goofiest grin to the blonde who she has an arm wrapped around in support, before limply pointing to the right. If it wasn't for the fact that Addison is dead to the world, Arizona is sure she and Callie would wake everyone up with the commotion the drunk woman makes while bouncing up and down the walls of the hallway connecting their bedrooms.

"Alright, here we are…" Arizona breathes out, setting the Latina on her bed. By now the buzz and excitement of drinking is gone from Callie's mind, and now the alcohol is pulling her quickly towards sleep.

She jumps when a fair hand shoves a tall glass of water in front of her. "Drink it, Callie. It'll help." A voice says, and through hazy eyes the Latina sees blonde hair and blue eyes. After downing the drink, she falls back on the mattress, not even bothering to kick off her heels or take out her large silver hoop earrings.

Arizona watches as her captain quickly succumbs to the suppressant of alcohol, and grabs a trashcan she finds under the desk. Placing it right next to side of the bed, in reach just in case Callie should get sick, she then carefully pulls the sexy black heels off the woman and lines them up at the edge of the bed.

The Latina murmurs something, getting Arizona's attention. "What?" The blonde asks quietly, softly turning the catchers face towards her. Callie's face is lax and expressionless, but beautiful all the same.

In her drunken haze, mistaking the blonde haired blue eyed woman in her room as the WRONG blonde hair and blue eyed woman, Callie repeats herself. "I don't want to kiss you." The words hit Arizona like an anvil, her heart being ripped from her chest. Which surprises her because she barely knows this woman. But still… it hurts.

With a deep breath, Arizona whispers back "Ok, Callie. Ok." Not able to resist one last moment of closeness, the newcomer softly strokes the silky black locks away from the Latina's gorgeous face, which does nothing but soothe the catcher more. Within twenty seconds, Callie is unconscious to the world, leaving a very confused and very hurt blonde in her room. Arizona takes another minute to admire the beauty before her, the woman who just said she didn't want Arizona.

Another sigh, one that lets all the hope and dreams of 'what if' slip from her mind, the blonde leans in and places the softest of kisses on Callie's forehead. "Good night, Calliope. Sleep well." She whispers, then stands and backs out of the room. One last look at the sleeping goddess, and the pitcher flicks off the bedroom light, leaving the catcher in darkness behind her.

* * *

AN2: Alright… so, what you all think? Very interesting night out huh? Lots of… stuff going on. Some misunderstanding, some competition, lots of jealousy. How long will it take for everything to just go BOOM? Let me know what you think!


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: Another chapter is up for ya'll. This one is a little longer than they usually do but I doubt I'll hear any complaints ;-) Enjoy!

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Chapter 9

The waking of Team USA signaled the last week of their training and prepping for the Olympics in Oklahoma City. Friday would be their last official practice and starting early Saturday morning, they would be on the road to tour the best college teams America had to offer them. All in hopes of finding gold at the end of a long, hard, and sometimes broken path that 14 women now find themselves walking. Unfortunately, Head Coach Webber decided to kick off the girls last week of training by taking an 'easy' practice at the batting cages. At least… it would normally be considered easy. But nearly every one of the players are suffering from their extracurricular activities from the night before.

The pinging of aluminum bat hitting leather ball makes flashes of light and pain poke at the closed eyelids of a very hung over Latina. Callie rubs at her temples while also trying to cover her ears in attempt to keep the God awful noise from making her even more miserable than she already is. If waking up completely dry, confused and disorientated wasn't enough, she also found a waste can full of sick next to her. How that trashcan found its way to where it was, she doesn't know. All she knows is that by the condition her body was in upon awakening, she thoroughly enjoyed the teams night out. And by enjoyed… she means tequila, and lots of it.

"Why did they have to pick THIS morning?" Callie growls, the vibration of her own words making her head pound and stomach knot. She's hunched over herself, in the ready position just in case there still may be something left within her to throw up. The cool metal bench underneath her does little to bring comfort, nor does the swelling temperature of the indoor complex they all are currently stuck in.

"I don't know. But I wish the ground would stop moving." Meredith moans back, then stands and wobbles over to the Gatorade bin and downs an orange drink. Another loud ping of bat on ball, usually signaling a solid hit, makes all those on the side lines grimace in pain.

Naomi limply drops a bat from her hand and plops down next to her co-captain before shielding her eyes with a pair of sunglasses, copying nearly the entire team. It's not bright inside this decent size complex, but right now, any light is too much light.

"How much did we drink last night?" Naomi Campbell groans, hands grasping at her stomach in attempts to stop the muscle spasming that is trying to rid her body of the toxic drinks she poisoned herself with last night.

"Fuck if I know…" Torres growls."Do you remember ANYTHING? How the hell did we even get home?"

"The last thing I remember was you shooting three shots of tequila, pounding the table and telling some dirt bag to suck your dick." Naomi mumbles then closes her eyes and falls back onto the cool floor.

"Sounds about right…" The catcher says, silently cursing herself for getting so piss assed drunk. She never does that. NEVER. Sure, she drinks, gets a little tipsy. But not to the point of blacking out. And especially not around her team. They are supposed to respect her, trust her, look up to her. Why would they do that if she gets toasted every weekend and ends up embarrassing the whole lot of them?

Another sharp pinging sound, followed by hollering from Derrick Shepard makes brown eyes flick up and find the object of the commotion. She finds one of her coaches talking with a blonde, the new blonde. He's motioning to his hips, showing Arizona how to use the power of her hips and legs to drive through the hit harder, but all Callie can focus on is how that ass fills those silky black running shorts.

"You got good bat speed, but if you just drive a bit more off the back…" Coach Shepard says to the newcomer, finally getting some one on one time. He doesn't usually mess with a player's hack all that much because everyone is different; everyone has their own style that works. Derek wouldn't attempt to turn a batter like Arizona or Cristina or Lexie into a batter like Naomi or Callie. They are different players, they do different things. But with just an added ounce of velocity behind her hits, Shepard thinks that those little slaps and dribblers that are already dangerous could turn into a secret weapon.

"Got it, Coach." Arizona replies, setting up again and watching as her coach feeds a yellow ball into the machine. A whoosh of air and the ball comes flying towards her. Driving hard off her back foot, she brings the bat around and connects. A loud ping fills the air and blue eyes stare off into the distance, imagining it sailing high and long.

"Nice! That's what I'm looking for." Derek shouts over the din of the machines churning and the other three players taking their hacks at some pitches and completely oblivious to how the rest of the team on the side line are wincing at each syllable. "I'm gonna crank it down and see if we can't get you adjusted to a slightly slower change up. …Those Japanese love to use that pitch." The man adds, turning his attention to the pitching machine.

Stepping out of the fake batter's box, the blonde takes a couple practices swings to stay loose while letting her mind wander. As much as she tries to deny it, or push it away, that sting of rejection is still eating at her. And what's worse… she didn't even put herself out there to be rejected. Arizona never made a move. Sure, there might have been some unneeded touching, and Robbins DEFINITELY took advantage of the view when Callie's back was turned to her, but still… was she being that forward that Torres had to cut her down? The way the Latina jumped away from her in the bathroom as soon as Amelia showed up was cause for concern too. Almost like Callie was afraid to be seen in such close quarters with the blonde. Not to mention that Callie didn't really go out of her way the other night to spend time with Arizona. Sure, the catcher invited her. But the blonde ended spending most of the night babysitting a drunk and love sick Teddy Altman.

Chancing a glance over to the bench where the rest of her teammates are hanging out, all waiting for their turn at the machines, blue eyes find the pained face of Callie Torres. The difference between this woman today, curled up in pain with a dark pair of sunglasses over her eyes is vastly different from the one Arizona saw last night. That Callie Torres was carefree and happy. Sure, some of that might have been the alcohol talking, but it was good to see her captain letting loose for once. Arizona, of all people, knows what it's like to work so hard you don't have a life anymore. Even the most serious and determined people need a night off every now and then. And when it comes to the Latina, now finding Arizona's gaze from behind her sunglasses, she is lucky that those nights don't come around too often, or she would be in serious need of a liver transplant.

"Robbins!" Derek shouts, pulling Arizona's attention back to the task at hand. "Step up." She steps back into the batter's box and sets up, preparing to unload all her disappointment and anger onto the ball flying towards her.

Dark eyes watch as her teammates take their turns in the batting cages. Usually this is one of her favorite places to be. Second only to crouching behind home plate, Callie loves being in the batter's box, an aluminum bat her only weapon against nine other women trying to get her out. Countless hours have passed in places much like this, and after years and years and years of swinging, she's mastered the art. With a practiced eye that comes from only catching for the best in the nation, Callie Torres is a force to be reckoned with. Powerful arm, deadly accuracy, and a swing that would make lumberjacks jealous, the Latina is, in a word, hardcore.

One last ping from the stall closest to Callie, and then Mark Sloan calls "Next!" Seeing that no one is making the effort to stand up, the catcher grabs her batting gloves, helmet and bat, and slowly stumbles her way to the cage. Just as she gets there, the previous occupant is leaving, holding up the net for the Latina to crouch under.

"How you feeling?" Erica asks, pulling her own helmet off and releasing her blonde ponytail, a trail of sweat slowly sliding down the side of her neck. For some reason her mouth has gone dry and her heart rate starts to rise. Most of last night was a blur to her, but she'd have to be six feet under to forget their lip lock.

"Like death warmed over." Callie groans while shoving her hands into her red and black leather batting gloves with cushioned pads. "You?"

"Not much better." The third base man mumbles, peeking over her shoulder to see if there is an audience watching. Erica isn't exactly sure who saw what last night, if their kiss is now known throughout the team or if it's a secret between the two of them. But she sees that no one is paying any attention to them, everyone content to wallow in their own drinking induced misery. "So…" Hahn drawls, watching as her crush pulls silky black hair up on her head and yanking on her helmet.

"So?" Callie asks, focused on strapping and restrapping her batting gloves, finding that perfect fit.

"Last night?" The blonde chances, blue eyes studying every feature on the Latina, looking for any sort of recollection. "We're good, right?"

"Yeah." Torres says with a smile, unsure why one of her best friends would ask such a question. "We're good, why wouldn't we be?" She asks.

Just as Erica opens her mouth to respond, Sloan yells "Torres! This ain't a sorority meeting. Move your ass." With an eye roll, Callie sends her friend as much of a smile she can through the throbbing of her brain, then turns on her heels and steps up to the batter's box.

Two sets of blue eyes watch their co-captain swing after powerful swing. Erica mind replays the way the Latina tasted on her lips, the way her tongue moved against Callie's, the way that curvy body felt pushed tightly against her own. Arizona, on the other hand, chastises herself. Callie told her she wasn't interested, that there was nothing between them. Whether the rumors about Callie and Erica were true, whether she is gay or not, it doesn't matter anymore because the Latina said no. Even if it hurts Arizona, she needs to respect that fact. Because, after all, they are a part of a team. A great team. An amazing team. A team that is less than a month away from heading to London in search of Gold. And Arizona knows better than to risk everything for the sake of a girl who doesn't want her. So… with one last sigh, for completely different reasons, both sets of blue eyes tear themselves away from the beauty before them and return to practice.

* * *

"Seriously… how are you not dying?" Teddy groans as she and her three other roommates file back into their apartment after morning practice at the batting cages. Both Charlotte and April are barely functioning, Altman feels like a stake is being ramming into each eyeball, while Arizona has taken on a perky persona. As per usual, when she is hurt or upset, the newcomer over compensates by upping the bright and shininess.

"Because I didn't try to drink Joe's out of business." The pitcher says playfully as the first base man falls back on the stained and beat up couch.

Dropping her bag on top of the others, April slumps against one of the armchairs and starts massaging at her temples. "I found an olive in my bra when I woke up."

"You're lucky you found TWO eyes when you woke up." Robbins adds with a smile before opening the fridge and pulling out a large bottle of Gatorade. Filling up three large glasses, the blonde also pours out three aspirin each then says "Alright girls, breakfast is served."

"What's this?" Charlotte groans, stumbling out of her bedroom with one sock on.

"Breakfast of champions." Arizona replies. "Drink up, come on. It'll help, promise." The three woman all give their newest teammate a confused look. It's been about four hours since everyone got up and dressed for practice, and though their hangovers may not be as bad as they were… it's still pretty painful.

When she sees her fellow roommates are reluctant to put anymore fluids in their bodies, Arizona shrugs and sighs "Fine. Be miserable." As she plods away from the kitchen and heads towards her own bedroom, Robbins peeks over her shoulder and sees all three have taken her advice.

* * *

"Alright ladies, this week is going to work a little differently." Mark announces to the group of pitchers and catchers around him. Not only are his starters there, but also the reservists, as in Meredith Gray, Addison Montgomery, Charlotte King, and Naomi Campbell. As much as the man wishes he could make it on just two pitchers, he knows that once the Games start it's nearly as challenging as a chess match to decide when to pitch who, and for how long. There is always the risk of a pitcher or catcher being injured, so he can't put all his eggs in one basket. Even if the basket is as good as Callie Torres, Amelia Shepard or Arizona Robbins.

It's the second practice of the day, and by now most of the girls have recovered from their hangovers from last night. Callie still has a slight throbbing behind her eyes, and her body feels as dry as a month old sponge, but at least her joints don't grind together when she moves. After batting practice, she curled back up into the dark hole of her room and pleaded with her God to just take her. But He didn't, which is why she is fully suited under the hot Oklahoma sun.

Next to her, dressed in her own blue catchers gear, Erica rocks from heel to heel. The blonde is lost in her own musings. Callie doesn't seem to be upset about her actions last night, even if the Latina didn't initiate the kiss. Erica knows that there are rumors about the team the she and Callie have been a 'thing' in the past, which is what first brought the blondes attention to just how beautiful the Latina really is. …And how the idea of being with Callie, in that way, didn't seem crazy to her. That if something were to happen, Erica wouldn't be upset. But this is a whole new territory for her. Up until now, the only lips that have pressed against hers have been men's. Now that she has something to compare it to, Hahn can't believe how much better a woman's lips taste and can only imagine what it would be like going further. Just thinking about it does funny things to her body, things that make her want to touch and be touched.

Across from Callie and Erica stands a very cranky Amelia Shepard. To say today has been painful is an understatement. The shorter brunette came in second in terms of alcohol consumption, and is definitely feeling it. Mix that with her other extracurricular activities she's been participating in lately and her body is pissed as hell. But even through the fog of misery, the first string pitcher doesn't miss how those blue eyes of Erica Hahn glance to the Latina next to her. She doesn't miss the longing in her friends' face, only to be replaced with a mask of nonchalance the next second. Something tugs at her mind, trying to bring up a memory from the vodka and tequila filled night. It starred the same Latina, and a blonde haired blue eye woman as well.

"Shepard!" Mark snaps when his player doesn't respond after a question.

"What?" Amelia snaps, turning covered eyes to the taller man.

"Are we disturbing your day dreams or would you like to join the rest of the team?" Coach Sloan asks, crossing his arms across his broad chest and leveling his glare at the woman. Very rarely does a player cause him trouble, but he's not afraid to dole out some punishment if it needs to be done.

Seeing that she had zoned out for a good five minutes, completely missing the instruction of her coach, the pitcher immediately gets back into line and steps up to the empty pitching rubber waiting for her. Arizona is warming up on the one to her right, while Charlotte is on her left, pitching to a geared up Naomi. Gray and Montgomery have rejoined the rest of the team on the field for practice, leaving the top three to get some pitches in.

"So, have a good time last night?" Amelia asks between huffs as she pitches to Callie behind the plate. Arizona looks around her in confusion, trying to find who Shepard could possibly be talking to. But the catchers are too far away, and Mark is currently instructing Charlotte at the other end of the bullpen.

"You talking to me?" The newcomer asks the veteran.

"Yeah, Kentucky. I'm talking to you." Amelia replies, sending another pitch straight to Callie's glove, a loud slap echoing through the air.

Arizona lets out a sarcastic laugh, then sneers "I get it… you've run out of states starting with 'A', so now you're moving on to the rest of them. …Clever." Amelia sends the blonde some sort of cross breed between a smile and a snarl, then catches the burning throw coming from her catcher behind the plate.

"What's got stuck up your ass?" Amelia snaps back, taking her stand on the rubber then letting a perfect curveball go sailing.

Sending a knuckle to Erica, Arizona catches the rebound and whips around to face her competition head on. "You know what Shepard, I've had-"

"Robbins!" Mark hollers, making all six players snap to attention. "Shut your yap and get to work. What do you think this is, a pizza party?" Blue eyes roll in their socket as Arizona grinds her teeth in frustration. Holding her tongue, she steps back on the rubber and pitches a scorcher that leaves Hahn's catching hand burning.

From behind her mask, Callie chances a glance over to the blonde who seems to be trying to throw her arm out. Arizona drives off hard, pitch after pitch. Trying to work off some of her pent up anger. Erica just chuckles, loving that the usually congenial and perky blonde has been worked up so much. Mark moves on from Charlotte, and takes a position behind Arizona to watch how she is coming along. When the newest player sends pitch after pitch, a slow smile spreads across the coach's face. Because when you got players like Arizona Robbins, you can't help but picture how a gold medal will look around your neck.

After a catching a good knuckle and throwing it back to her pitcher, Erica glances over to Callie next to her. Blue eyes drop to the woman's ass, poking out very nicely in the Latina's squat, the soft material of her shorts riding up toned and tan thighs. Another knuckle flies, and a loud snap pulls Hahn out of her gaze.

"So…" She chances between pitches. "Feeling any better?" Erica asks loud enough so that only the catcher next to her can hear.

Dropping her glove in time to scoop up a stray ball, Callie replies "Yeah, a little. The sun and this suit ain't helping much but… yeah."

"You were pretty gone last night, Cal." Hahn says after a grunt of exertion as she throws a yellow ball back to the blonde on the rubber.

"Tell me something I don't know…" Torres grumbles, then dives after a runaway curve that Amelia sent flying. "Come on Shepard, stop messing around!" The Latina hollers as she throws the ball back.

"I just… I wanted to make sure that you were ok. You're ok, right?" Blue eyes catch brown as they peer through their masks. Callie has no idea what Erica is asking about, and turns back just in time to not get knocked off her ass by the next pitch Amelia sends to her. Hahn isn't as fast though, and before Arizona can hold it back she lets go a scorcher that nails the unsuspecting catcher right in her face mask. Erica falls back on her ass, the wind rushing from her lungs as her body reacts to the sudden shock of the collision. The metal wiring of her face mask is the only thing that has prevented the blonde catcher from catching the fastball right in the teeth.

"Erica…" Callie breathes out, up and out of her stance and next to her friend in a second. "You alright?"

"God damn it!" Mark yells, then strides to the fallen player along with the other four players working in the bull pin.

"Just breathe." The Latina instructs her co-captain, gently pulling off the blue helmet and meeting steely eyes, a sheen of tears ghosting over them. Callie has been on the receiving end of many a fastballs, and knows that even after years and years, the shock of getting hit like that is still scary. "Come on, Hahn. Man up." She plays, trying to get her friend to calm down.

"You alright Blondie?" Coach Sloan asks as he kneels down to his fallen player. Arizona looks on, a slight hint of guilt nagging at her as she sees one of her superiors down because of her. Even if Hahn is a total bitch, the newcomer would never intentionally hurt someone. Definitely not while playing the game she loves and respects so much.

"Yeah, I'm good." Erica says and accepts Callie's hand to help pull her up. "Just caught me off guard, that's all." She adds while running a hand over her face, checking to make sure that the mask actually did its job.

Once his fear of injury is quelled, Mark stands and yells "That's because you were running your trap!" Turning back to the rest of his group, he continues. "What the HELL is wrong with you ladies? You are a month away from the Games and you are treating practice like a day at the beach. When you step into MY bull pen, you are on MY time. You cross those chalk lines, you hustle. You run. You bust your ass until you have no ass to bust! Is that clear?" Silence from his players greets his ears, and that doesn't make him happy. "I asked, IS THAT CLEAR?"

"Yes, sir." The six women yelp, never having seen this man get this angry. Mark has the tendency to yell and get excited easily, but that little vein on his forehead has never popped before, and Arizona is sure that it's not normal for a human being to turn that red.

"There's only one way I know to keep you from talking. You know what that is?" He asks, smiling at himself. Again silence meets his question so he answers it himself. "Running." A collective groan from the six players immediately fill the air. "That's right. You brought it on yourself. I want laps. Now." Six sets of eyes stare at him, pleading with the man not to make them run in this kind of heat. But Mark is past feeling sorry for his players. "I said NOW! And I want your mouths sealed SHUT!"

Another set of eye rolls, and then the three catchers start to ungear while Charlotte and Arizona take off at a jog around the perimeter of the four fields. Callie, Erica, and Naomi all fall into step not fifteen seconds later.

Amelia, already on the verge of punching someone in the face, snarls at her coach. "How many?"

"Until I say stop! Now move your ass, Shepard. Before I move it for you!" Mark yells, pointing towards the rest of the running ladies. Dark eyes roll in their sockets and Amelia has to bite her tongue until it bleeds to keep from flinging back a VERY bad comment to her coach. Dropping her glove with the rest of the ladies, she takes off at a steady jog, cursing Coach Sloan at every stride.

* * *

"You ladies have a nice run?" Teddy asks her roommate smugly. Arizona and the rest of the pitchers and catchers spent the rest of their time, about an hour and a half, running around the four leaf clover of fields. And Coach Sloan was right, they didn't have enough energy left to talk, all they could do was barely move by the time Coach Webber let out the last whistle calling practice to an end.

"Shut up." Arizona growls while plopping down on one of the training room benches. The fake leather covering sticks to her sweat covering legs, and her entire body aches and throbs. Altman just laughs to herself, revealing in a teammates misery when the newcomer says "Will it still be funny when I tell Hunt how you want to suck him like a cherry jolly rancher?" The laughing stops immediately as the first base man's eyes go wide.

"You wouldn't." Teddy whispers, making Arizona laugh now. Just then the door to the training room opens and in hobbles Callie Torres, Amelia Shepard and Erica Hahn. Alex Karev, a trainer, lets out a growl in frustration as he realizes that date he has in forty five minutes will probably not be happening. Thirty seconds more, four more of team USA strides into the room and start a line in the row of chairs along one wall of the room, all waiting their turn for some sweet relief.

"Stop bitching, Karev, and do your damn job." Erica spits as she hops up onto a padded table.

With only two trainers working the entire room, there is a lull in activity as they work through all of the team members here for treatment. While Karev takes a couple minutes to reschedule his date, Jackson Avery, the other trainer, starts on the first player, Teddy. During her wait, Arizona scans the room and meets the gaze of chocolate brown eyes directly across from her. Callie has taken the last available bench, between Amelia and Erica, and directly in front of the newest addition to their team. The Latina sends the blonde a small smile, and the grin she gets in return seems forced. Arizona's dimples don't pop, and the light doesn't make it to her pretty blue eyes. The catcher is immediately on alert for what might be troubling the newcomer, replaying their practice looking for an incident that might have upset her. But the raven-haired player comes up empty.

Just as Callie is about to ask if Arizona is alright, Karev comes barreling back out of his office and stands immediately in front of the blonde, blocking their line of sight. "Alright, what's wrong with you?" He asks with a snap in his tone.

"Ice bath." Arizona answers, already hopping off the table and walking into the room just off to the side of the main one. Not even waiting for a trainer to set it up, the blonde scoops ice from a giant freezer into a stainless steel tub. It's deep, and just wide enough to fit an average size football player, which means the blonde will be able to swim in it. But that's what she wants. She needs the coldness to hit her bones, numb the pain that is throbbing throughout her body, in her shoulder, and that sharp, tearing feeling that has somehow filled her heart.

Within five minutes, the tub is filled with ice and frigid water. Stripping out of her sweat ladened tank top and dirty running shorts, leaving her in a black sports bra and black sliders, Arizona slowly lowers herself into the tank. A string of curses leave her mouth as the pitchers body immediately reacts to the freezing temperatures. Sinking down enough to cover her shoulder, an already shaking finger pushes the button on the egg timer and begins the seven minute countdown.

At two minutes in, the cracking of tired ankles pull the blonde back to reality. Blue eyes peek over her shoulder and find the woman of her dreams hobbling up next to the side of Arizona's tank.

Pulling on her best smile, even though sadness is filling her body, Arizona greets her. "H-hey."

"Hey, I was wondering if I could…" A finger points to the ice waters at the foot of the basin. "Those guys are taking forever and my knees are-"

"Yeah." Arizona cuts her off. "Yeah of course, Callio- uh, Boss." The blonde corrects herself, which does not go unnoticed by the Latina. After a bit of maneuvering, Callie sits on the side of the tank and dangles her legs into the water, the surface coming up just over her knees.

"Damn that's cold." Callie groans, a wave of pain hitting her immediately. The change from extreme heat to extreme cold washing over her body like a tidal wave. "How are you still alive?" The Latina asks, trying to make her newest teammate smile a real smile. But all she gets back is a strangled laugh, blue eyes never straying away from the wall directly across from her.

The seconds tick by slowly, and Callie Torres can't help but feel the awkwardness between them. It was just yesterday she and Arizona were practicing during off hours, chatting and laughing… maybe even flirting a little. Now the blonde is as cold as the waters she's sitting in. What changed? What could have happened?

All the while, Arizona replays exactly what happened through her mind. Callie jumping away from her in the bathroom. The words 'I don't want to kiss you' rolling off those plump lips. Just the memory of those words makes the blondes stomach flip and knot, do barrel rolls and nose dives. Anything a stomach can do, hers does it. Because before anything even started, it ended. And Arizona finally realizes what they mean when they say you never know what you have till it's gone. Even if it was a possibility… it's gone.

Brown eyes watch as those beautiful blues glaze over, a far off look hazing the gorgeous features of the blonde. Chancing a question she doesn't know if she has the right to ask, the Latina questions "You alright, Battleship? You seem a little… distracted."

"I'm fine, boss." The blonde answers, not meeting her gaze.

It doesn't take a mind reader or profiler to know Robbins is lying, so Callie pushes her. "You don't seem fine. …Is something wrong?" Finally blue eyes find brown, and the pain that is evident in the newcomers gaze is palpable. A fire roars within the Latina, an unknown need to protect this woman urging the catcher into action. "Because you can talk to me."

All Arizona can do is shake her head and bit her tongue. What good would it do to come out and say 'you broke my heart' to the woman who flat out told the blonde she wasn't interested? None, that's what good it would do. It'd only make things awkward and uncomfortable… and the gossip would tear through the team like a bad taco from a roadside vendor. No. Arizona is not going to be THAT woman, the one who falls for the straight girl. The unavailable girl. Arizona Robbins is a good man in a storm, and she has resolved herself to be that now. Professional, polite, and civil. Nothing more, nothing less. It's not personal, it's business.

"Arizona…" Callie whispers and places a soft hand on a naked shoulder, covering the purple and pink butterfly that masks an old surgical scar. Robbins' mind clears immediately at the woman's touch. "Did I do something to-" But the Latina is cut off by the beeping of the egg timer, signaling the end of Arizona's torture.

Not giving her a chance to finish her question, Arizona stands from the tub, water rushing everywhere and splashing onto the woman sitting at the edge. As nimbly as a frozen body can, the blonde extricates herself from the silver basin and wraps a warm towel around her. The Latina can't help but take this sudden escape as a means to get away from her.

"Arizona…" She tries again, addressing the back of the retreating blonde.

The pitcher halts midstride and takes a deep breath. She knows that it must start now. Right now. In order to stay in control, to keep confidence throughout the team, Arizona must remain professional and polite. She can't get emotional and jealous. She can't be ruled by emotions. Emotions don't belong in sports, they don't belong on that medal podium. There is no room for tears. There's no crying in softball.

One last steadying breath, and a dimpled smile forms on the blondes face. Turning to meet concerned brown eyes, Arizona replies "Like I said, Callie. I'm fine. Really." Her voice doesn't falter, her smile doesn't waver, and her heart doesn't come spilling out of her mouth. "Have a good night, and I'll see you tomorrow, Boss." She adds, then turns and continues her retreat without waiting for her captain to respond.

Amelia watches as her competition quickly dries herself and flees from the training room. Then turns her gaze to her catcher, now sitting alone on the edge of a silver tub, a look of confusion and a dash of hurt making Callie's face scrunch up. The bits and pieces from last night slowly start to piece together, and based off of today's antics, Shepard can only come to one conclusion.

"Amelia!" The woman next to her calls, shoving the brunette slightly to get her attention. Dark eyes spin around and find those of her sister in laws… or ex-sister in law… however that works now that she And Derek are getting divorced. Apparently Addison Montgomery had been yammering on for quite some time while Amelia was lost in her own thoughts.

"What's going on with Callie?" The pitcher asks, ignoring the redheads' questions all together.

Addison immediately goes on alert and greenish-gray eyes look up and find the sulking figure of her best friend. Last night is mostly a blur to the red head as well, but she wasn't drunk enough to miss that kiss between Callie and Erica. Especially because the redhead is the one who sent the blonde out on the dance floor in the first place. But Addison has yet to find the opportunity to have a good sit down with the Latina and do the girl talk thing. What does it mean? Is it serious? Do you like her? How long have you liked her? All those questions that always pop up as soon as initial contact is made.

Deciding that playing stupid is the best thing, Addison replies "Nothing. Why?"

"She just…" Amelia starts, trying to find the right words. "I don't know." She says. When it comes to her team, Amelia is protective and friendly. It may not seem that way to outsiders, but that's the point. They are outsiders, they don't belong in this group of tight knit friends. And besides her sister, Addison, Callie is the one person on the team she feels closest to. That's what happens when you work so closely for so long. Callie is Amelia's catcher. And Amelia is Callie's pitcher. It's just the way things are.

"I think she kissed someone last night." Amelia chances, turning her gaze back to Callie who is currently standing and removing herself from the tub. Addison just sits there, giving a noncommittal hum. "Someone on the team." The pitcher adds, then looks at the redhead next to her. Again, Addison remains silent, letting the brunette make her own conjectures.

"I walked in on them in the bathroom and they jumped apart like they were on fire." Shepard keeps talking, keeping her voice low enough so only the redhead sitting on the bench next to her can hear.

"Wait, the bathroom?" Addison questions, immediately interested in this topic of conversation. She distinctly remembers the kiss on the dance floor, then Callie going to the bathroom. But she losses track of where Hahn went. Did she go after the Latina, following her to the bathroom? She doesn't think so.

"Yeah, she had this guilty look on her face. Asking what I was doing in there, like I was disturbing them." The pitcher keeps talking, foggy pieces of last night slowly making its way to the front of her mind while Addison tries her best to follow Erica in her memory after Callie left the dance floor. Then something clicks. "And Utah looked like she had been well on her way to getting buck wild."

Addison's mind goes racing. "Wait, NewGirl? She kissed NewGirl?" The redhead hisses.

"And who knows what else if I hadn't shown up." The brunette adds before Jackson steps up next to her bed and starts treatment. Addison Montgomery's mind is reeling, wondering what the hell happened last night, and how suddenly everything started spinning out of control. Because if anything, Callie Torres is all business and there is no way the Latina would jeopardize her team for the sake of a kiss. One way or another, the redhead is going to get to the bottom of this.

* * *

AN2: Ok so… a web is being weaved. A lot of dancing going on, don't you think? Can you feel the slow burn happening? Since when is it as easy as walking up to someone else and calling them out? Never! That's what I'm saying. Being on a team of 12 plus women has given me great insight into team dynamics. And I'm telling you, females are snakes. So buckle up for an interesting ride.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: Ok so I know this chapter has been a long time coming but I've been messing with it for days, trying to get the right tone. Some have commented on my 'slow updating' of this story when the ones before have been like rapid fire. But I can't promise any faster, sorry. I will try, but don't promise anything. Anyways, here is the next installment. The fire continues to roll, will it spill over? Read on to find out.

* * *

Chapter 10

Arizona Robbins sits at apartment 26's worn down and beat up breakfast bar. It's nothing fancy, a lot like you would find in a college dorm. In fact, that's what this apartment complex was until the local university deemed them too old. The numerous stains on the two bar stools are like a road map of the apartments history. Each college inhabitant contributing just a little bit of themselves to the rattiness of the furniture. Initials are tattooed and carved into the cheap covering of the breakfast bar, door jams, and wall plaster. The original color of the thin carpet lost years and years ago, and there is no counting how many drunken nights their dorm style bed frames have seen.

But that is not what newest player of Team USA is staring at. The pitcher has brought out her laptop because the wireless signal in her room was complete crap, and it's only faintly better in the common area. And the web page staring back at the blonde hasn't changed in months. But still… she can't look away. It's like a car wreck. Scary and horrible, brings tears to your eyes. And it sucks you in, slowing everything around you and making you wonder what the hell is wrong with this world.

"What the hell are you doing up already?" The groggy voice of her roommate makes Arizona jump, and instinctively slam the screen of her computer down. Blue eyes find Teddy Altman, hair in disarray and her lounge pants halfway down her ass from the tossing and turning in her twin bed.

"We have practice in an hour." Arizona states, not really answering the question but giving some form of explanation.

"Which means we get to sleep for another 45 minutes." Teddy growls. Without a second glance, the first base man stumbles into the bathroom and shuts the door behind her. Half a minute later, Arizona hears the toilet flush, then witnesses Teddy literally sleepwalk back to her bed, not even bothering to shutt her bedroom door before collapsing back in the sheets.

* * *

A panting and sweating Callie Torres pulls her ear buds out of her ears as she strides through the unlocked front door of apartment 16. Another good run has given her plenty of time to think, but the Latina couldn't because she couldn't figure out what the hell is going on. She's thought about the issue so much that she can't think about it anymore. It's like saying the same word over and over and over. Eventually it loses all meaning. Arizona's shortness with her yesterday in the training room has stuck with her and has gotten under her skin. A night of tossing and turning provided little relief, so when brown eyes were still wide awake before her morning alarm went off, the only thing she could do was throw on her running clothes and hit the pavement.

As she opens the door, Callie nearly runs into a half dressed Derek Shepard. The man barely has his jeans slung over his ass while grasping a rumpled, and probably buttonless, shirt in his hands.

"Woah!" Callie yelps, taking a quick side step and avoiding a face full of Shepard sex hair. Not that she needed another reason, but on top of the weirdness with Robbins, her roommate was engaged in a heated round of post break up sex with her soon to be ex-husband, a contributing cause in the Latina's sleepless night.

"Sorry Torres." Derek murmurs, then runs a hand through wavy hair which only makes it more untamed. "I'll see you at practice." He says quickly before slipping out the door.

"Right…" The Latina whispers, and locks the door behind him. One of the rules on Team USA is no romances. None. No coach-player. Coach-coach. Trainer-player. Or player-player. But the team plays it loose. As long as it doesn't cause drama, it's don't ask don't tell. And Callie doesn't really care about it, she's not a huge stickler for rules. But this little thing going on between Addison and Derek could really blow up, and end up taking the rest of the team with them.

The catcher just lets out a strangled breath, then heads towards her closed bedroom. She is just slipping around the corner when the resident redhead steps out of the bathroom, tiptoeing in efforts to stay quiet and not wake the woman she thinks is still behind the closed door. But Addison stops in her tracks when she finds Callie very much awake, standing right in front of her, and not sleeping soundly in bed.

"Hey Cal…" Addison breathes out.

"Addison." The Latina counters, giving the woman a raised eyebrow that speaks volumes.

"It's nothing." Her friend says, knowing exactly what that look was implying. "Just angry, break up sex. Not going to screw anything up."

"Mmhmm." Callie hums. "Since when does sex NOT screw things up? Especially when it's your vagina doing the screwing?" The Latina opens her bedroom door, exposing the mess that makes up her room. Addison contemplates on whether now is the time to bring up the 'kissing two team mates in one night thing', since the redhead was too busy screwing her husband last night to even think about broaching that subject.

"About that…" Addison starts, leaning against the door jam of the Latina's bedroom. "What's going on with you?"

"What do you mean?" Callie asks while stripping out of her sweat laddened shirt and pulling on a fresh one. Usually she would take a quick shower but with practice in just under a half hour, there is no reason to shower now just to shower again later.

"Sunday night?" The redhead chances. Dark eyes looking quizzically at her friend, trying to figure out what the woman is asking. "Anything you want to tell me?"

"Uhh… no?" The catcher answers, having no clue what Addison is getting at.

The two are interrupted by a very disorientated Naomi stumbling towards them. "Hey… Amelia's not feeling well. She says she's going to skip practice." With that, the utility player heads back to the other side of the apartment to get ready. Addison also leaves her friends room to get dressed, leaving a very confused Latina. Of all the time she and Amelia have been working together, the brunette has never missed a practice save for the time Shepard broke a finger. Something is going on with her pitcher, and Callie has suspected it for a while. But this is the first real proof she's had. And it's not sitting well with her.

So with a nagging feeling, Callie Torres suits up for another long day of training in hopes of reaching Olympic Gold. All the while, she tries to push the image of a hurt and dejected Arizona Robbins to the back of her mind. She has enough on her plate right now, and dating a woman… a teammate no less… would only add to it. So maybe it's for the best right now. But still… Callie can't help but think something is up with the blonde.

* * *

"Come on ladies. You're moving like chilled molasses!" Coach Webber yells as he watches his team work situationals. A handful of players are wearing helmets and lined up behind home plate while the rest take positions around the field. Hunt is standing in the batter's box, a bat in one hand and a ball in the other, hitting the ball into play after Richard yells out a situation for the team to play out.

The girls are sweating, salt burning their eyes and the sun blinding them. It's been a long hard practice, and the only saving grace for Arizona Robbins is that she didn't have to pitch during it. As in shape as the blonde is, she's done more pitching in the past two and a half weeks than she has in the past two and a half years, and her shoulder is starting to get back at her. So instead of being on the rubber, the newcomer takes her position at shortstop, ready to show her team just how much of a threat she really is.

"One out! Runner on second!" Richard hollers, kicking the teams mind into gear. Callie takes her spot behind home plate like she usually would while she witnesses the rest of her team in front of her rise up on the balls of their feet. Erica inches up towards the batter's box ever so slightly, and Arizona takes a couple half steps to her right to cover the area Hahn won't be able to. Cristina Yang, the runner on second, digs her cleat into the bag as she prepares to jump off at full force.

But Hunt surprises them, and instead of hitting away, he tosses it lightly into play, making most of the infield yell "BUNT!" In a second, Callie is out of her squat and ripping her mask off. At the same time, Arizona is sprinting to cover third base while Lexie at second is sprinting to cover first. Teddy, playing first, rushes forward, trying to cover the bunt. And Erica should be fielding the bunt as well, but steel blue eyes see the catcher already on the move and therefore backtracks.

A tanned hand scoops up the dribbler and seeing the runner on second taking off, the Latina chances it and fires the ball to third in hopes of a tag. Just as Arizona gets to third, a larger body backs into her at full force. An elbow hits a cheek, and feet trip over feet, causing two blondes to fall to the ground. The balls sails past both downed shortstop and third base men, ending up in left field for Meredith Grey to field. And leaving a red carpet for Cristina Yang to truck around third base and fly on through home.

"What the hell!" Arizona yelps, holding the side of her face with her ungloved hand. She's not exactly sure what hit her, but the throbbing in her cheek tells her it was hard.

"Damn it Robbins!" Hahn shouts out of frustration while untangling herself from her pitcher. "What were you doing? !"

The newcomer finally finds her way to her feet and yells back "My job. What were you doing? It was a bunt! You move up on a bunt! You field, I cover third!" The rest of the team looks on as the two blondes go at it. Callie watches from behind the plate with a helmeted Addison Montgomery standing right next to her. The two blondes go back and forth for a couple more seconds, each calling the other out for being at the wrong place and doing the wrong thing. But when Arizona steps a little too close for Erica's liking, the veteran places her hands on the shorter woman's chest and pushes her away.

Sky blue eyes go wide, and the anger of the past two and a half weeks, and the pain of having her heart stomped on, quickly comes to life. "You did NOT just-" She lunges forward, intent on sending Hahn to the ground again when another body manages to come between them.

"Stop!" Callie yells, pushing her co-captain and newest teammates in opposite direction. "Enough. You don't act like that on my field." She growls, turning an angry eye to Hahn. She of all people should know how to act, even if Erica is angry. There is a reason she and Callie were named captains. They should lead by example and not get caught up in the pettiness and bullshit that usually comes with a group of women spending so much time together.

"You should know better, Hahn. Calm down." Callie says, meeting her friends gaze but the two are still struggling to get at each other. And the Latina doesn't miss how strongly the shortstop is putting up a fight.

"Yeah, take a walk." Arizona says through grinding teeth while fighting the hold Callie has on her shirt.

"Why don't you make me, bitch?" Erica sneers, making Arizona lunge at her again.

"I don't make trash!" Robbins bites back, which gets more than one of the other players, all much closer to the scene than before, laugh and snicker.

"Both of you off my field!" Richard hollers, bringing Erica and Arizona aware of where they are and the audience around them. The dueling duo just stand there, shocked by how pissed off their head coach looks. But Webber isn't playing, in fact he's serious and it only pisses him off more as he watches two of his best players just standing there, gawking at him.

"Off. My. Field. NOW!" He yells, making everyone jump. Arizona immediately crosses the chalk line while Erica drags her feet. "Everyone. Off. Go. I can't… I just… GO!" He barks and unceremoniously ends practice.

Callie tries to catch the gaze of her head coach, but Webber is not in the mood and just storms off. In fact, none of the four coaches are interested in sticking around as they all head back towards their offices. The Latina runs a hard hand over her face and praying for some calmness to find her. But the sounds of bickering make dark eyes open again and she finds Arizona and Erica going at it… again. This time it's Teddy holding the newcomer back while Naomi stands firmly in front of Hahn, her arms stretched out to keep the captain contained. And just as Callie is about to haul them both away by their ears, Altman finds a strong grip on Arizona and pulls the shorter blonde back across the street and towards their apartment.

"What the hell is going on with those two?" Torres mumbles to herself, then follows the rest of her team off the field, but instead of going to her apartment she decides to have a much needed conversation with her coaches. And not just about the Arizona-Erica problem that's brewing.

* * *

"What the hell is going on with you two?" Teddy exclaims as she shoves Arizona into their apartment and slamming the door behind them. The first base man is all for a little butting of heads, but when it starts to interfere with practice and the way the team functions as a whole… that a very different story. After all, Teddy didn't just stumble onto Team USA. Like the rest of them, she's worked hard for years and years and years. Playing college ball, practicing day in and day out. Bleeding, crying, and cussing. …And it was all for the love of the game. A love that she hopes will, very soon, end in a gold medal.

"Nothing." Arizona snaps back and tries to avoid her friends gaze my straightening out her wrinkled shirt.

"Arizona." Teddy growls, but the blonde just turns on her heel and high tails it to her room. But her attempt to shut Altman out is blocked, and the door swings back and hits the stop. "Robbins! What the hell? !"

"Outta my room, Altman." The pitcher says and tries to close the discussion by opening her laptop and typing furiously on the keyboard. But Teddy just stands there, staring daggers at her newest teammate. One she thought was a good addition to the team, but now she's not so certain.

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's crawled up your ass lately. It's like you're a completely different person. …A week ago, you were pranking Shepard. THAT was hilarious. But flat out fighting on the field? NO. That is not what goes down on this team." Altman chastises, talking to the profile of a very heated Arizona Robbins. The pitcher remains silent, because she doesn't trust herself to speak. One wrong word could ruin everything, so she's going take what her roommate has to give her on the chin and let that be it.

"I like you, Arizona. I do. But I swear that if you keep causing problems on this team, you won't be a member for much longer." That catches the newcomer's attention, and sky blue eyes whip around to find those of the veteran player. "Because if it comes down to it, I'd rather vote your ass off the island than watch it crumble around you. Do you understand me? Are you understanding the words that are coming out of my mouth?"

"I can't work with her!" Arizona shouts, realizing she is sounding very much like a six year having a tantrum but she can't help it.

"News flash! This is a team, which means you need to put your big girl panties on and suck it up!" Altman rebuttals, words flying out of her mouth without remorse. "You can bitch and complain about it, or you can adjust your expectations. Because at the end of the day, it doesn't matter what others think. What matters if what you think! If you think you belong on this team, you do. And if you think you don't, you're right."

Arizona just sits at her desk, staring at her computer screen hoping for it to open up and give her a way out of this mess. An exit plan or a life raft. But it doesn't. The only way out of it would mean walking away from the entire team and showing them her greatest fault, her greatest weakness. And Arizona Robbins doesn't show weakness.

Teddy's anger softens as she witnesses her roommate battle herself. The first base man hates playing the leader. Sure, she can do it. She was a captain for most of her teams in the past, but she never really enjoyed it. Teddy liked being the ones people looked up to, but the other stuff? The hard stuff? Keeping players in line and making sure expectations where kept up? That wasn't for her. Altman would rather go out on the field, play hard and then be able to leave it at that. She wouldn't take Torres's or Hahn's position even if begged to.

The taller blonde lets out a strangled sigh and takes a seat on the edge of Arizona's military standard made up bed, a small smile crossing her face as she remembers having to do the exact same thing growing up under her parents' house. The pitcher doesn't turn around, doesn't blink, and doesn't look away from the glowing screen in front of her because she's too close to crying. And Arizona Robbins doesn't do crying. There's no crying in softball.

"You know… They take pictures of mountain climbers at the top of the mountain. They are smiling, ecstatic, triumphant. They don't take pictures along the way 'cause who wants to remember the rest of it. We push ourselves because we have to, not because we like it." Teddy states, not knowing where these words of wisdom are coming from and not really thinking about it because it just feels right. She wants Arizona on her team, and if the newcomer needs a little pep talk then well… Teddy can do pep for a few minutes. "The relentless climb, the pain and anguish of taking it to the next level… nobody takes pictures of that, nobody wants to remember. We just want to remember the view from the top, the breathtaking moment at the edge of the world. That's what keeps us climbing, Robbins. …And it's worth the pain, that's the crazy part. …It's worth anything."

Arizona sits silenced and shocked, feeling about the size of an ant. Here Team USA is gearing up for a historic trek across the globe, hoping to bring honor and glory to their country and all she has done is bicker with two of the best players, the veterans, on the team. How shallow is she being? Taking the hurt of being turned down by a girl out on others? Why is she even thinking about dating or… kissing or… whatever it could have been with Callie? She's just one girl, in a whole world full of girls. But this chance Arizona has been presented, this chance to claim victory is a once in a lifetime shot. And Teddy is right. …It's worth anything.

Sensing that she has finally gotten through to the pitcher, Teddy stands and places a hand on the shorter woman's shoulder. "Have some fire. Be unstoppable. Be a force of nature. Be better than anyone here, and don't give a damn what anyone thinks." With that, the first base man walks out the door and leaves Arizona Robbins alone.

* * *

The slamming of the front door of apartment 16 makes Amelia jump from her cocoon of warmth. Sometime during the one practice she has ever missed, she moved from her bed to the couch in attempts to appear somewhat normal. Amelia Shepard has never skipped a practice before, but the brunette could hardly hold her head up this morning, let alone stand out in the sun for three hours and sweat her ass off. So she called in sick. She's allowed to do that just once, right? The woman has done nothing but pour her heart and soul into this team for going on three years. She can call in sick just once.

At least, that's what she thought before Callie Torres heard the news. If there is one thing that will wake you out of a dead sleep is an angry Latina barging her way through your door, hair afire. It took some convincing, but all fight was lost from Callie when she barely avoided getting thrown up on when Amelia's stomach just couldn't hold it anymore. So with instructions to sleep and drink lots of fluids, her catcher left her and went on to practice one man down.

But now, practice is done and a different raging woman is roaring through the apartment. And it's one that doesn't live here. Naomi had already reappeared and is currently in the shower, but her friend didn't say much but mumble as she passed. So Shepard has no idea what has gotten the blonde so worked up this early in the day.

"I am a SENIOR member of this team. Who the hell does she think she is?" Erica growls, throwing her ball bag into the corner and plopping down in a vacant arm chair. "Is Cal back yet?" She asks, peeking over her shoulder towards the Latina's bedroom but only finding a closed door.

"No, she's not." Amelia answers off handedly. "Wait, who does who think she is?" The pitcher asks, still trying to clue into as why their front door nearly lost its hinges.

"New Girl." The blonde replies. "She had the balls to start something on the field. If it weren't for Torres…" Erica's words fade out as her teeth grind, just thinking about the many pleasant ways the older woman would like to crush Arizona.

But Amelia takes this a little differently, and chances "She broke you two up?" Erica nods tightly, trying to calm her breathing and focus her mind. Very rarely does Hahn ever get this worked up, but there is just something about Arizona that rubs her the wrong way. "Well… I guess that makes sense." Shepard muses, burrowing deeper into the blanket wrapped around her, a low throbbing pulsing right behind her eyes. "I mean, she wouldn't want her girlfriends pretty face all busted up." The pitcher sighs.

"Wait, what?" Erica snaps, immediately sitting up straight and turning steel blue eyes to that of her sickly friend on the couch.

"What? You didn't know?" Amelia asks, one eye peeking open and finding a shocked Hahn. But just as Shepard is about to explain, the front door opens and in walks a very tousled looking Addison Montgomery. Her clothes are wrinkled and her hair looks like she was standing in front of a very large and powerful fan. Mix that with the slight blush still present over her cheeks and down her neck, it doesn't take a mind reader to figure out what the redhead has been doing.

But Erica isn't concerned about her teammate's sex life, at least not THIS teammate's sex life, and immediately pounces on the unsuspecting woman. "Did you know about this?"

"Excuse me?" Addison asks, still recovering from her post coital haze.

"Montana shoving her tongue down Cal's throat while Torres groped at her… northern mountains." Amelia plays, a devilish grin on her face. But green eyes remain locked on the blonde, and Addison watches Erica's color drain.

"Who else knows?" Erica asks, trying with all her might to keep a composed look about her. Hahn is many things, but one thing she is NOT is emotional. At least around her teammates, she remains steadfast. "Have you told anyone else?"

"Just Addy… why?" Amelia counters, then looks between a hurt Erica Hahn and a sympathetic Addison Montgomery. Obviously she is missing something, but what? Amelia doesn't know. "What am I missing?"

"Nothing. Just… don't tell anyone else, Shep." Erica says, finding her way to her feet and grabbing her ball bag.

Amelia doesn't necessarily like being told what to do. After all, she too is a veteran player on this team. "But-"

"But nothing." Hahn snaps. "I am your captain and I am telling you to keep your trap shut about this." Steel blue eyes dart from the brunette on the couch to the redhead still hovering near the front door. "Neither of you, alright? I will talk to Torres about this… mess. Until then, just keep it to yourselves." A hand runs through blonde hair as Erica can't help but get a little angry… and jealous. SHE kissed Callie. She took a chance and kissed her. And now she finds out that someone else did as well… on HER night. What makes it even worse is that it's Arizona Robbins.

The redhead can't help but feel sorry for the woman. She likes Erica, she really does. And Hahn has been a great friend to Callie. Plus Addison was the one who even pushed Erica to go out on the dance floor after the Latina. And now Hahn is hurting. How can Addison not feel bad for her?

The catcher looks between two of her closest friends on the team and each give her a small nod in agreement. Neither Addison nor Amelia will speak of this incident again, because for as much as Erica can be cold and distant, she is their captain. Their leader. And that still means something. So without so much as another word, Hahn turns on her heel and leaves apartment 16, slight broken hearted which only makes her want to fight harder.

* * *

"Robbins!" Webber yells, and all fourteen faces in the warm up circle look over. Callie and Erica are in the center, using each other's shoulder to balance while they lead the team in stretching their legs. "Come here." The head coach adds, waving the newcomer over.

Blue eyes glance at the rest of her team, all of them giving her the 'you've stepped in it now' look before jogging the short distance to the far dugout. "Yes, sir?" She asks. Her stomach is in knots because she has a very good idea what all this is about. After Teddy's little chat with her this morning, the blonde realizes she stepped out of line big time.

Richard opens his mouth, ready to let his pitcher have it good but Arizona cuts him off. "I know sir. I was out of line. Hahn is my superior and… nothing should have warranted my outburst. It won't happen again, and I promise to uphold the high standards you have set for this team." The older man just stares down into blue eyes as the woman rambles. "I realize that my personal quarrels with Erica are mine, and therefore should remain off the field. And I swear that I will not disappoint you again. I want nothing more than to join this team in London, and stand beside my teammates on that medal podium. Please… just give me another chance. Please sir. Please."

Webber stares at her for a moment longer, making the blonde suffer for just a few more seconds, then finally says "I don't want to have to say it again."

"No, sir." Arizona replies, a dimpled grin crossing her face that breaks even the hardest of glares. "Thank you. You won't regret it." With that, the blonde turns and rejoins her team, intent on keeping it professional from here on out. It's not personal. It's business. It's not PERSONAL. It's BUSINESS. At least, that's what she keeps telling herself. But with one look from soft brown eyes, Arizona Robbins wishes for nothing more than to be able to get personal with her. …Very personal.

* * *

After a three count, a loud "USA!" pierces the air.

Quickly followed by thirteen other voices yelling "All the way!" With that, the second practice of the day concludes, and players start to filter back to their bags to pack up and leave.

Arizona searches the group for a certain woman, and finds her with another certain woman. Screwing up her will power, repeating her mantra of 'it's not personal, it's business', the blonde pitcher steps up and interrupts them. "Uhh… Hahn?"

Erica stops mid word as she looks from Callie and sees who the intruder is. It's been a couple hours since she had found out that not only had she and the Latina shared a kiss a couple nights ago, but Robbins also got a little something something. And that just adds to the dislike she has against the newcomer.

"Robbins." Erica growls. Arizona tries to pull out her dimpled grin, one she notices that makes those around her just a little happier. But it does little to soften this woman in front of her.

Then sky blue eyes look away from Erica and glance at Callie, those warm brown eyes and plump lips making her stomach jump with both desire and sadness. "Boss." She greets the other catcher, and just gets a larger, more breathtaking smile in return.

"Robbins." Erica states again, her agitation growing as she witnessed Arizona gawking at HER woman right in front of her.

Shaking herself, Arizona immediately looks back at the blonde co-captain. "Umm, I was wondering if you had a couple minutes. I think that uhh… I think we should have a little talk."

Erica is about to turn her down because one less minute spent around this woman the better. But just as she is about to speak, Callie cuts in with "I think that is a GREAT idea." Perfect white teeth make a showing, the Latina pulling out her megawatt smile and unleashing it upon both smitten blondes in front of her.

"Fine." Hahn sighs, then turns back to Callie, continuing their discussion before Arizona interrupted them. "So… tonight?" She chances, having asked the Latina if she was interested in coming over to her place for the night, getting some take out and vegging on the couch to watch a movie. It's nothing out of the ordinary, they've done it a couple nights a week for months and months now.

"Yeah, of course." Callie replies, thinking that this is nothing more than two good friends getting together and spending time together. She grabs her bag and flings it over her shoulder, backing away towards the apartment complex across the street. "It's a date." The Latina adds with a wink and a smile that makes Erica's heart flutter, and Arizona's heart sink.

Taking a seat on the bleachers behind her, Erica starts to peel off her dirty cleats and says "So New Girl, what did you want to talk about?"

Shaking herself, again replaying her mantra, Arizona takes a seat next to her catcher and says "This…" Motioning between them. "Us. I don't know why… we're like we are. Usually I get along great with everyone. And maybe it's my fault, I don't know. I mean… I didn't think I was a high maintenance pitcher or anything but I'm willing to try and-"

"Don't get emotional, Robbins. Nobody likes a girl that gets emotional." Erica cuts her off, not really one to let someone ramble on and on. After all, she does have a date tonight.

Arizona scoffs, rubbing dirty hands over her dirt and sweat crusted face. "You know what Hahn, how about you go fu-"

"Look." The catcher cuts her off again, knowing that the two of them could bicker back and forth until midnight. "We don't have to be friends. Actually, I think I'd prefer it because when I look at you… I want to say some not nice things. …So you kissed Callie…." Arizona's mind immediately stops, all thoughts about playing or Hahn or anything going right out the window. It feels like the pitcher has just been punched in the gut, all oxygen rushing from her body and leaving her speechless.

"And I kissed Callie." Erica adds, sending a knockout jab into Arizona's stomach. "I can see how that may bring up some… hard feelings. But I will not allow you to make a mockery of myself or the team on my field again." Hahn pauses, turning on the bench and finding a very stunned Robbins. "Are we in agreement?" She asks, rising to her feet and throwing her bag over her shoulder.

"What?" Arizona breathes out, completely lost. She only knows two things at this moment. One, Callie kissed Erica. And two, Erica thinks Arizona kissed Callie. "Uh… yeah." The blonde mumbles, not really sure what the hell is happening. Her brain is synapsing all over the place and Arizona can only assume that this is what a stroke feels like. Her entire body going numb and the ability to process information at all is completely lost.

"Great. Now, have a good night. …I have a date to get to." Erica says, practically giddy with excitement. And with that, she turns and leaves the field intent on making tonight a night that Callie will never forget.

Arizona sits on the bleachers as the hot Oklahoma evening sun starts to dip. She can't pin point the exact moment where everything started to spiral out of control. It happened well before Sunday night. Hell, her life was a mess before stepping foot onto the ball diamonds for tryouts. But even now, after all the pain she has been through throughout her life, the one thing that hurts the most… packs the hardest punch is that woman. That woman with raven hair and megawatt smile. The blonde doesn't know a thing about Callie Torres, other than her full name is Calliope. And she can cook. And drink like a sailor on leave. …And has the most amazing smile. Did she mention that already? And eyes that you can get lost in.

Should she have corrected Erica? Told the woman that she did not kiss the Latina? Even though every fiber of Arizona's being screams to kiss the girl. To take her in her arms and never let go. But that's preposterous. Callie is their leader. Their Boss. This is a team, a team on the path to gold. And Callie is just one girl. Arizona is just one girl. What are the chances they are the ONE for each other? Highly unlikely, and the pitcher isn't about to chance fourteen women's hopes and life long dreams on the infinitely small odds that Callie Torres might be the one worth risking it all for.

So, Arizona decides. She decides it's not personal. It's business. Let the rumor spread, and let it die. It's easier than proving otherwise. Because it's not always easy to speak your mind. Sometimes you need to be forced to do it. Sometimes it's better to just keep things to yourself though. Play dumb. Even when your whole body is aching to come clean. So you shut your mouth. Keep the secret. And find other ways to make yourself happy.

* * *

AN2: So the secrets are out… but not to Callie, who is still in the dark. Who will dish to the Latina first, Erica or Arizona? And will Amelia actually keep her word about the secret, or will the pitcher decide to spread some more rumors around the team. And is the battle between Arizona and Erica on the field over, or has it only begun? Lots of possibilities, lots of fun to be had. So strap on your seatbelts, folks. And enjoy the ride.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: Another chapter! Yay! And it's a day early too LoL. Anyways, this one is a bit shorter than the rest, but it's the best place to cut it. So I'm hoping to have another update for you all by Friday. I realize that this may seem like a slow progression to you all but I find I favor stories with a nice slow burn at the front. So just hang with me, these two will get there I promise. You can't rush love people! Haha, ok. Enough rambling, on with the story. Last we left, Erica spilled the beans to Arizona and left her to go have a date night with Callie. Let's see how that night plays out. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 11

A knocking on the front door pulls Erica Hahn away from her reflection in the mirror. For the past ten minutes the blonde had been psyching herself up for tonight. Very rarely does this veteran player of Team USA become nervous, but if she were to harness the power of those butterflies fluttering in her stomach right now she's sure she could light Oklahoma City for a month.

At the door, blue eyes look down at her outfit one last time. "Too late now…" Erica mumbles to herself, really wishing she had gone with her blue top instead of the red. Her visitor knocks again, not use to having to wait to be let in, and it makes Hahn jump.

A deep breath and Erica opens the front door, revealing a very beautiful Latina. She takes a half a second to fully appreciate the sight before her. A toned, tanned body covered by skin tight jeans and a low scooped black top, topped off by the sexy leather jacket that seems to accompany Callie Torres everywhere. Hahn's tongue slips out of her mouth and licks at her lips, wondering why her throat has gone desert dry all of a sudden.

Callie notices the slight hesitation of her friend and clears her throat, blue eyes immediately snapping up to meet warm brown ones. Unleashing the full force of her megawatt smile, the Latina holds out a bottle of red wine and says "Got the booze."

"And I got the food." Erica replies, stepping aside so her guest can come in.

As she passes, Callie cruises her friend up and down. "Looking good, Hahn. Like you're dressed up for a date or something." A blush crosses Erica's face, and she just laughs while taking the bottle of wine from Callie.

The Latina makes herself at home in the living room, like every other night the two co-captains have spent together. Usually a girl's night consists of dinner and alcohol, talking about the team and its players, discussing other teams and its players, regaling each other with glory tales of past games, and just shooting the breeze. The only reason why Callie and Erica even started spending time together was because they both dislike most people. Basically, their entire friendship is built off of their shared disdain towards others.

"So how'd it go?" Callie asks, accepting a large glass of red wine from the blonde. Erica takes a seat on her couch next to the Latina, her brows furrowing in confusion. "With Robbins?" Callie explains. "You two… talked? Hopefully."

"Oh uh… fine." The older woman replies, trying to brush off the topic of a certain pitcher who only serves to rile Erica up even more.

"So no more fights on my field?" Torres asks, playfully nudging her friend with her knee which makes Erica's breath catch in her throat. "Gotta say, never really expected her to be so… feisty." The Latina muses, smiling to herself as she remembers how the newcomer was about to go toe to toe with the bigger woman next to her. That, plus the little stunt with the Mento's and coke on Amelia, shows Callie that her newest teammate isn't one to back down easily… and she likes that.

Blue eyes see that small smile crossing her crushes face as she thinks about Arizona, and jealousy stirs in the pit of her stomach. "More like immature." Erica growls, a single finger running over the rim of her wine glass.

Popping a small block of cheese in her mouth, Callie says "If I'm not mistaken, you were the one that initiated it. …I mean, you WERE supposed to cover the bunt while Arizona took third."

"Can we not talk about Robbins?" Hahn snaps before she can check herself, the use of Arizona's first name being a little too much for her right now. She catches the confused look her friend gives her, surprised by the reaction Arizona has on her. So Erica quickly adds "Or the team? I mean… we're supposed to be having a relaxing night. No shop talk."

"What else is there to talk about then?" Callie asks, causing a tense silence to fall between them. Erica is let off the hook when her co-captains phone starts to ring. The blonde leaves Torres in the living room to take the call while Erica goes back to the kitchen to check on dinner.

They eat in comfortable silence, a corny movie playing in the background to give them something to watch. Erica can't help but glance at the woman next to her, watching as Callie swallows her wine, smiling when the Latina's plump painted lips pull into a smile. The blonde has been battling herself all night on when, and how, to make a move. What kind of move should she make? Hand on the knee? A finger stroking a cheek? Just going right in for kiss number two? All these questions keep swirling around in her head, and Callie doesn't miss how distracted her friend seems to be tonight.

"Everything alright, Erica?" Callie asks as she pours herself a third glass of wine for the night. "You seem kind of… distracted."

"Uh yeah, I'm fine." The blonde covers. "Just… umm, I… I've been wanting to ask you something. And it's kinda… well…" Erica clears her throat and mentally slaps herself upside the head. What is wrong with her? It's not like Callie hasn't show interest, hell… the Latina kissed her back. With tongue. You don't do that just for show. Plus calling tonight a date? Yeah… she's definitely sending out the right signals.

"Just spit it out, Hahn." Torres says with her kind smile, a soft hand resting on Erica's bouncing knee.

"What is your stance on relationships… within the team?" The older woman asks, slapping herself AGAIN for just how lame that sounded.

Callie's eyes narrow as she tries to read the blonde in front of her because there has to be something more behind her question. Some reason or segway Erica just hasn't said yet. But then it clicks, the reason why Erica is so nervous about asking her. "Oh… I see." Callie sighs, and leans back into the couch. "I know exactly what you're talking about. And I've thought it too."

"You have?" Erica questions, her heart pounding as hope rises within her. Because all Hahn has been thinking about is getting her lips back on the gorgeous woman sitting in her apartment. Tasting the sweet wine on her tongue, combing her fingers through that pitch black hair. And if Callie has been thinking the same way… tonight is about to take a great turn.

"Yeah. Who hasn't? I mean… everyone sees it." The Latina replies nonchalantly.

"They do?" The blonde questions again. This is totally not how she thought this conversation would be going, though she's not really upset. Erica didn't count on the whole team knowing about their tongue tango, but hell… if they already know then that's one less reason why she and Callie shouldn't get together. "I mean… I know there were rumors but I didn't know the rest of the team actually knew. I know I didn't tell them. Did you?"

"I didn't need to." Callie answers, slightly confused at how seriously Erica is taking this conversation. It's not like this is news on the team. "Those two aren't exactly subtle."

This catches Erica's attention. "Wait…"

"I mean, Addison was trying to sneak Derek out of our apartment this morning. If the grunting and… head board banging late into the night wasn't enough to tip me off." Callie adds, completely oblivious that Addison and Derek's relationship is NOT what her friend was leading on to. "I know it's difficult, because Addison is a friend. But still… I'm just as wary as you are that whatever they are doing is going to come back and bite us all in the ass. And God forbid if Derek is stupid enough to actually start something with Grey because… I don't know if Addy can come back from that. Not in time to keep this team together."

The blonde takes a long drag at her wine, finishing it in one gulp. "Right." She adds, realizing that she and Callie aren't on the same page after all. Upending the wine bottle, all Erica gets is a few drops. So taking this as a way to get some distance, she stands and says "More wine?" Without even waiting for a response, the catcher strides out of the living room and seeks the privacy of her kitchen.

"Coward." Hahn mumbles to herself. "Get a grip, Hahn. She likes you. Addison saw it. You saw it. She kissed you back. So get out there and get your girl. …But don't be too pushy. Let her come to you."

"Hey." Callie cuts her off, walking into the kitchen with two dirty plates in her hands. Brown eyes are a little glassy and her skin flushed from the three glasses of wine she had with dinner. "Were you just talking to yourself?"

Skipping over the question, Erica uncorks another bottle of wine and fills up her guest's glass while asking "Refill?"

A small smile crosses plump lips and Callie Torres readily takes another long drag at the sweet liquid before saying "If I didn't know better, Hahn, I'd say you were trying to get me drunk." The raven haired catcher laughs a deep belly laugh while sashaying back out into the living room, Erica right behind her and adding her own forced laugh.

They settle back down on the couch and Callie's head lies back against the plush cushions, a contented sigh escaping stained lips. "You know, after Sunday night I swore I'd never drink again. But… here I am." She says, laughing a bit more than a sober person would at their own joke. Kicking up her feet onto the coffee table, Torres scrunches down further in the couch and lets her body relax. "At least here I won't make a complete fool out of myself."

"Well, you were pretty hammered that night." Erica replies, scooting a little closer to her guest as she too relaxes into her couch and muting the TV. "But you didn't embarrass yourself too much. …Just a little bit." The blonde plays and gets a light smack from her guest.

"Oh really? How?" The Latina asks, tipping her head to the side and staring up into steel blue ones. This is Erica's shot, her moment. If she were to lean in just four inches their lips would meet again. And the blonde is sure that it would be just as amazing and earth shattering as their first one kiss.

And even through the haze of alcohol, Callie senses the change in her friends mood. Her voice dropping an octave, the Latina says "It looks like you want to kiss me…"

"Would that be so bad?" Hahn whispers, not moving a centimeter in either direction. She doesn't pull away, but she doesn't lean in either. The blonde's response catches the younger captain off guard, and before she even realizes it brown eyes are leaving blue and finding thin lips just a few inches from hers. Erica sees this and takes it as a green light, so screwing up her courage she slowly leans in.

Brown eyes start to flutter closed, but then Arizona's face flashes in front of her mind and suddenly Callie jumps off the couch. "No!" She yelps, making Erica pull back. "I mean yes. I mean…" Tanned hands rub the Latina's face roughly as she tries to wipe the alcohol from her mind and lips. "I… We can't."

"Why not?" Erica pleads, suddenly feeling very stupid and vulnerable. Two things that Hahn is not use to feeling like.

"Because!" Callie exclaims. "Because we are captains and teammates and friends and…" You're not the right blonde. At least, that's what she wants to add, but she doesn't. "Because it would screw everything up. I can't do this. WE can't do this, Erica. We were just talking about Addison and Derek throwing us ALL under the bus. …And I'm not about to do that to my team."

The Latina sees her close friend and co-captain literally deflate where she sits, and it makes her feel guilty. She's not exactly sure where along the way the blonde had developed feelings for her, but Callie wasn't oblivious to the way Erica had been more flirtatious with her lately. She just didn't know Erica felt strongly enough to chance a kiss. Maybe she should have had this talk with her sooner, saved both of them the awkwardness and hard feelings.

Retaking the seat next to Hahn, Callie places a hand on the woman's knee and says "I like you Erica, you're one of my best friends. And I don't want to mess that up. I don't exactly have the best track record with relationships. I just… I can't do this with you."

Erica grinds her teeth, rejection and hurt filling her body and yet she can't pull away from the Latina's touch. "Didn't stop you before." She growls, the words slipping out before she even knows she saying them. Cold blue eyes meet caring brown ones, and Erica adds "You were happy to play tonsil tennis with Robbins."

These words make Callie freeze. "What?" Everything within her just stops, her heart, her breathing, her brain. Everything stops.

* * *

Addison Montgomery stumbles out of the storage shed and steps into the dark Oklahoma City night. A hand runs through ragged hair as the other works on straightening her pants and blouse. The flush crossing her face starts to fade as the woman takes slow and steadying breaths, trying to fix her appearance so that her roommates very discerning eyes don't catch on to the fact that she just had her third tryst of the day.

She knocks softly on the shed door, signaling her partner that the coast is clear. An equally unkempt looking Derek Shepard slips out into the night and zips up his pants. The two look around, always on the lookout for a watching eye. They exchange a tight smile and an awkward goodbye before the Coach heads in one direction and the redhead another.

Just as Addison is rounding the corner of one of the fields, the eerie moonlight glow illuminates some sort of figure sitting in the center of the diamond. The complex lights are off, and the security lights are too far away to aid the player in seeing who… or what… could possibly be trespassing on USA property. Suddenly wishing she grabbed her purse, a can of mace in it at all times, the redhead tiptoes her way out onto the field. No one comes out to the fields at night, not this late at least, and the few times that someone might actually want to be out here, they flip on the field lights.

The redhead inches closer and closer, but then the shape starts to come into focus, and she can make out the faint glow of golden hair waving in the slight breeze.

Arizona hears someone approaching, but doesn't turn to look who it is. Only a handful of people would ever be out here this late, if at all, and she's doubtful that the few on Team USA who don't like her would actually cause deliberate physical harm. So instead, she stays seated in the pitching circle, her gaze locked towards home plate forty six feet in front of her and the full moon rising behind it. There are a few empty bottles littering around her and she's lost track of how long she's actually been out on the dirt. And frankly, she doesn't care. The fact that she has an unobstructed view of the apartment parking lot, which is currently without a very distinctive T-Bird, is purely coincidental.

Addison stops right beside the sitting blonde, unsure what to say because these two have yet to have a real conversation. But the newcomer looks lost and confused, and Addison herself feels like she is rowing the same boat. And besides… they are teammates. Aren't they supposed to have each other's back on the ball diamond? And they ARE, after all, on the ball diamond right now.

"This seat taken?" The redhead asks, already lowering herself to the ground.

"Nope." The blonde replies, then takes a pull at her warming drink. "Beer?" She asks, blindly grabbing one of the three left in her six pack and handing it to the woman beside her.

"Sure." Addison answers. The two sit like that, drinking beer and staring at the moon for a couple minutes. The redhead isn't sure what to say, and the blonde is happy not saying anything. She's been too busy thinking. …About everything. And that's a lot to think about.

"So… what brings you out here tonight?" The veteran asks after the awkward silence becomes too much for her. Robbins takes a deep breath, then lets it all blow out as she tries to form a coherent sentence. But everything in her brain is so screwed up at this moment that nothing makes sense, so the only response Addison gets is a light, forced laugh. But the redhead doesn't accept that so she continues to wait.

And after fifteen more seconds, Arizona whispers "Things." Realizing that's about as much as she's going to get, Addison nods and takes a drag at her beer, the warm bitter liquid not really her choice of beverage but right now any alcohol is good alcohol.

"Yeah… me too." The redhead sighs.

"I thought Derek Shepard is what brought you out here tonight." The blonde states point blank, making her teammates jaw drop in surprise. "That shed isn't exactly sound proof." Arizona adds when she doesn't get a reply from her guest. And the blonde just smiles as Addison buries her face in her hands.

"Perfect." She growls and tries to think back to when her own life has started to slip through her fingers. It wasn't that long ago that she and Derek had a good marriage. It wasn't perfect, they fought… a lot. But still, there was love and that's all that you need to make things work. And now… now the veteran player is sneaking her soon to be ex-husband out of her apartment, meeting up with him in his office between practices, and having midnight hookups in the team's equipment shed. How has it all fallen apart?

Blue eyes finally glance to the woman beside her, and Arizona can just make out the pained look of regret and remorse filling her teammates face. The redhead looks as bad as the blonde feels. "Well… you're in luck, Red. Because in this circle…" Arizona says, pointing to the chalk line that circles the pitching rubber "It's a judgment free zone. What is said in the circle stays in the circle."

"I don't know what the hell I'm doing." Addison sighs, then starts to pick at the label of her beer. "I fought for him, and then I let him go. And now… now when I thought I'd be alright without him we just keep… screwing things up."

"If you're looking on advice on relationships, you've come to the wrong girl." The blonde states simply. Arizona hasn't exactly been successful when it comes to that part of life. Not for the lack of trying though, the blonde just hasn't found the right woman.

"You know… I never thought I'd end up alone." The redhead whispers, staring up into the dark heavens and seeking some form of guidance. Or advice. …Anything would do, really.

"Oh come on. You still got time. Just because Shepard gave up fighting for you doesn't mean you're done." Arizona replies, making Addison turn and meet blue eyes. "You're a beautiful woman, and from the limited conversations we've had, you're not a total bitch. So don't give up hope." The veteran gives a tight smile, surprised that this woman, of all women she knows and spends time, is the one trying to pull her up out of the metaphorical dirt she feels like she is rolling in.

"And if it makes you feel better… I'd do you." Arizona adds just as Addison is taking a drink and beer immediately comes flying from the veterans mouth.

Half choking, half laughing, Addison smiles and replies "You know what? That does make me feel better."

Arizona chuckles, flashing her dimpled smile for the briefest of seconds. "Good. Glad I could help."She whispers. Silence falls upon them again, Arizona taking slow drags at her beer, and Addison demolishing the paper label, both trying to sort out more questions than they could list.

"What about you?" Addison asks. "Are you sleeping with anyone who wants to divorce you and shack up with a woman half your age… and IQ level?"

The bitterness in her teammate's voice makes the blonde smirk. "Nope. Can't say that I am. Currently flying solo on that level."

Addison Montgomery hesitates for a second, unsure if what she is about to ask should be asked. She did promise Hahn that she wouldn't bring it up to anyone. But this is the circle of no judgment, Arizona said it herself. What is said in the circle, stays in the circle.

"What about kissing? Have you kissed anyone… interesting… lately?" The redhead cringes, her question not being smooth at all. Blue eyes narrow, and Arizona looks over at her fellow drinker, studying the guilty look on Addison's face.

Then a soft sarcastic laugh falls from the blonde's lips. "Why am I not surprised?" Arizona asks rhetorically. It seems that bullshit runs through this team faster than half of them can run the bases.

"Amelia." Addison states. "She… she told me. Said she walked in on you and-"

"Of course she did." Robbins cuts the woman off, suddenly realizing how that rumor got started. Amelia Shepard, drunk half off her ass, came stumbling into the bathroom and took two plus two, and morphed it into equaling thirty seven.

Arizona stares up at the moon, and it feels like the weight of the entire world is resting on her shoulders at this exact moment. "If you can think of a reason, any reason at all, why the universe is so screwed up and random and mean, now would be an amazingly good time to tell me because I really need some answers."

Green eyes watch the newcomer as Addison tries to figure out what has the blonde so depressed, so lost. She's never been really friendly towards Arizona, but she hasn't been out right rude either. And to know that someone else on her team feels just as hopeless as she does helps to open the redheads eyes a little bit. After all, misery does love company.

So with a deep breath, Addison replies "Life is short. And it sucks a lot of the time."

The two sit in silence for a couple seconds, chewing over what the other has said. Then Arizona says "That's surprisingly unhelpful." A laugh falls from both sets of lips, but it does little to lighten the atmosphere around them. Blue eyes look across the complex and find a still empty parking spot that has housed a certain T-Bird since the blonde joined the team. And Arizona's heart can only sink as she realizes Callie is still out… on her date. …With Erica Hahn.

"So… did you kiss Callie?" The redhead questions again, because Addison can't believe that her friend would do that. Not in a dirty bar bathroom, not with someone on their team… and definitely not when the rest of the team was just ten feet away. But she also didn't believe that Erica would shove her tongue down the Latina's throat. So…Addison Montgomery doesn't have the best track record.

Pink lips purse, Arizona thinking on that question for a couple seconds. Of course, she knows the truth. It seems like Arizona is the ONLY person on the team that remembers the entire night. But somehow… deep within her… past the barrier she has set up to protect her from those gorgeous brown eyes and breath taking smile, Arizona Robbins wants it to be true. At least that way she would have ONE kiss with Callie, instead of none and no chance of ever getting one.

"On this team, I don't think it really matters…" The newcomer muses, swirling the last quarter of her beer around the bottom of her bottle while staring at that empty parking spot across the street. "…whether something is true or not." Addison just nods slightly, agreeing with her co-drinker on the fact that this team's gossip mill is worst than most medical drama's.

"Either way, nothing would come of it." The blonde announces, making the redhead glance over at her. "I'm happy alone. I'm not here to kiss girls. I'm here to play ball, win a gold medal… maybe see some of London, then go home. Anything else is just a distraction." Arizona adds, giving herself the same speal she has been giving herself over and over and over again. Both women finish their drinks and set them on the dirt next to them.

"Suppose we should head in." Addison states even though she doesn't really feel like leaving the circle of no judgment.

"Guess so." Arizona sighs, also not too keen on heading inside just yet. Mainly because she doesn't want to have to address a certain rumor that has no doubt made its way around the team already. But there is also the reason that her bedroom window doesn't look down on the apartment parking lot, or the entrance to apartment 16 where as her seat in the dirt is a clear line of sight to exactly where Callie would pull into.

Then the pitcher looks down at her six pack and sees two more beers left just staring back at her. "Or… we could have another beer." The blonde suggests, taking one for herself and handing the last, sweat laddened, bottle to the red head sitting next to her.

"Definitely." Addison replies, taking the glass bottle and giving Arizona a smile. The two share a look, then twist off the tops and clink the necks together before falling back into silence as the luke warm liquid slides down their throats.

* * *

AN2: Hmmm… what the hell is happening? ! Haha. Erica made a move, got rejected then told Callie she kissed Arizona. How will Callie respond to that? Anyone notice that Erica DIDN'T mention that she kissed Callie? Hmm… and What about Arizona getting all chummy with Addison? Unexpected? And will her 'it's not personal, its business' attitude help or hinder things in chapters to come? So much juicy drama, I can't stand it. Let me know what you all think! Much love.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: Lucky lucky people! Two updates in as many days. Wow, it's like Christmas time huh? Haha. Anyways, on with the show… so to speak. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 12

Days pass and neither Arizona nor Callie attempt to talk to each other. The pitcher is content to keep as much distance between them as possible. As she sees it, it's the only way to keep her from falling even more into those deep brown eyes. Of course Arizona remains professional on the fields… to everyone. Including Hahn who has seemed to up the bitchiness since their little talk Tuesday night. But Arizona keeps a smile plastered on her face and does what she is suppose to do. Never arguing, never giving lip. She busts her ass at each practice, each workout, each pitching session. And when she is released, she heads back to her room and buries her nose in her books. It's not fun, but it's what the blonde needs to do to keep her mind focused and her heart in check. Because like Teddy said, the climb isn't the fun part. It's hard and mean and makes people want to give up, makes them want to bail. But that view from the top… that's what keeps the few hanging on.

Where Arizona seems to be pulling it all together, Callie seems to be spiraling out of control. After Erica made a pass at her, which the Latina has decided it's best to just pretend like it didn't happen, she has been trying to get a read on the newcomer. But Arizona will hardly meet her gaze. And now it's starting to piece together for Callie what has happened between them. Callie kissed her, and Arizona got offended. No wonder the blonde shut down after that night. What the Latina mistook for as flirting was just Arizona being friendly. So Torres lets the woman be, giving her plenty of rope to play with. She figures if Arizona wants to talk about… the incident, then the blonde can come to her. Because Callie doesn't want to drive the pitcher further away by pressing the subject, especially when just one kiss has upset her so much.

In the days since her 'date', Erica has managed to become an even colder, and more distant player than ever. Before, she was mostly unbiased and would get on a players ass if they messed up, no matter who it was, but now focuses her attention on Arizona and those that seem to be getting closer to her. Namely Teddy, April, Lexie, and… much to Callie's displeasure, Addison Montgomery. Erica pushes them harder than the rest, always calling for one more pitch, one more lap, one more rep. Anything to make sure they all know who is the head of this team, even though no one is fighting her.

But everyone is on edge this week because they only have a hand full of practices left before hitting the road and becoming London bound. Though they have a good three weeks of traveling to do around the states, the finish line still remains across the pond where people drive on the wrong side of the road. So all the players are tense, and the coaches a tough. Everyone can taste that gold, and it tastes like blood, sweat and tears. All of it well worth it.

All of which was shed during the last practice on the Thursday before Team USA was set to depart. Both Cristina and Meredith are now sporting split, fat lips because both were intent on tracking down the same fly ball. And it appears even the best make the most foolish mistakes… like running face first into a teammate, both falling back on the grass in pain while the fly ball lands squarely between the two. Tears were shed by Kepner when Hunt unleashed his fury on the team and sent them all off on another two mile jog around the complex, which is the part where the sweat comes in.

But now practice has been completed, and most of Team USA is limping back to their apartments or to the training room to lick their wounds. Arizona Robbins, on the other hand, is tearing through the equipment shed because it's the last place she has yet to look. Sometime during her stay with the team, she has lost something very important to her and during the past two days she has torn everything and every place apart in attempts to find it. Her shoulder is throbbing, as well as her head from the dehydration she is no doubt suffering from, but that doesn't distract her from her search. Dirt and clay stick to her sweat laddened skin as she crawls around the dirty floor of the shed on her hands and knees, searching every crevasse she can find.

Which is the sight Callie Torres sees as she hauls the last bag of practice balls into the shed. Arizona, on her knees, head stuck under the golf cart and a very nice view of a short clad ass sticking up in the air. The catcher immediately looks for a way out because the last thing she wants is to make her relationship with the blonde more strained, so she attempts to set the balls down as quietly as she can. But just as it always happens, the quieter you try to be, the more noise you end up making. Because brown eyes are locked on the blonde's backside, Callie doesn't see the metal chalker right next to her and knocks into it as she swings the bag around to set it down, a loud clanging echoes throughout the shed.

"OW!" The blonde yelps in pain. The sound frightens the blonde so that she immediately jerks up, hitting her head on the undercarriage of the golf cart. With a hand on her, now doubly throbbing, head Arizona extracts herself from underneath the vehicle and finds a very stunned Latina.

Callie is shocked still, mouth agape and the heavy bag of balls just hanging from one hand like it weighs all of two pounds. She can feel a blush break across her face and right now the catcher really wishes there was a box of sand nearby so she could just bury her head and get it over with.

"S-sorry." The captain stammers as the blonde slowly rises to her feet, Arizona's face screwed up in an expression of pain. "Didn't mean to sneak up on you like that."

"No, it's ok, Boss." Arizona mumbles in response and trying furiously to rub out the aching in her head. "I was just…" She limply points out the garage door and starts to leave.

"Uh!" Callie chokes out and steps in front of the blonde, halting her retreat. "I was actually ummm… I wanted to uhh, can we talk?" The catcher stammers, suddenly feeling very hot and bothered. Arizona doesn't answer but instead takes a couple steps back, out of arms reach of the Latina because even though both of them are hot and sweaty and tired from a hard practice, Arizona can't help but hum with desire at the sight of the woman before her.

Taking the blonde's decision to stay as a green light, Callie backs up and leans against a dusty work bench, putting another couple feet between them. Blue eyes look anywhere but at the other woman with her, and brown eyes silently plead to find blue.

"Look, I…" The Latina starts but words are failing her right now. And she gets little help from the pitcher, who just leans back against a work bench on the opposite side of the shed. "I'm sorry." She blurts out and immediately wishes she could get the last two seconds back.

"Callie…" Arizona breathes out.

"No. Just, please… let me get this out." Callie cuts the woman off. "I just want to things to go back the way they were. Ok? I… I don't want a relationship. I don't want to kiss you. I don't want any of that. And I'm sorry that I kissed you, because it was wrong and stupid…" and because I want to remember the first time I kissed you. Or, that's what the catcher wants to say. But that would just push Arizona away further.

Arizona Robbins stands there, her head throbbing as she lets her captain's words sink in. Somehow… it's not any better. Not only does Callie think that they 'kissed' when they didn't, she just said that she doesn't want to kiss Arizona… again. Either Arizona is the good guy, takes the woman home and puts her to bed and gets turned down. Or she makes out with the catcher in a dirty bar bathroom and still gets shot down. Lose-lose.

"I'm a captain, and I should know better. I should lead by example." She exclaims, chastising herself more than she is actually talking to the blonde right now. "I DO lead by example. I am a DAMN good leader. My actions were… uncalled for and wrong and…" Torres looks up from the floor and finds that Arizona is still avoiding her gaze.

"Arizona…" Callie whispers, blue eyes finally meeting brown. "I'm sorry. I never wanted this to happen. Please believe me. Can we just… forget about it?"

Robbins pushes her hurt back down, and calls forth those barricades she's spent all week making. With one last second to mourn the loss of whatever possibility she had with this woman, the blonde pulls on her best dimpled smile and answers "Like it never happened." Torres doesn't miss the fact that Arizona's smile doesn't make it to her eyes, but she's said all she can say.

"Can I… help you look for whatever it was you were searching for?" The Latina asks, wanting to spend more time with the blonde just to get a better read on her. But Arizona seems to have some sort of mask pulled over her face, blocking any sort of emotion or expression beside the very fake smile marring her face.

"No, it wouldn't be out here anyway." The blonde replies, dropping her gaze again and shuffling out of the shed. "I've just run out of places to look." She adds with a defeated shrug.

Callie watches her player leave, thoroughly confused as to what these last four or five days have brought. Going into Sunday she had a firm grasp on everything. Her part on the team, where she stood with everyone, was a great friend with her co-captain, was having an amazing time getting to know her newest teammate better. Those Sunday coffee dates, or run ins as they were, were quickly becoming her favorite part of the week. Now everything seems to be all wrong. And the worst part is she can't remember how it got so screwed up.

"What-" The catcher calls, stopping Arizona in her tracks just as she is about to leave the confines of the shed. "-was it?" The blonde turns half way, her eyes remaining on the ground. "Just in case I might see it…" The Latina adds.

"Umm, it was a picture of my brother. Before he…" The plethora of emotions swirling within her means tears are closer than they usually are and the last thing Arizona wants right now is to become to blubbering blonde chick who cries when she gets shot down. Erica was right on that count. No one likes the girl that gets emotional. "It was my favorite. And I really wanted to have with me at the Games." She adds, then walks away leaving Callie standing by herself.

* * *

Back in apartment 16, Callie lays back on her bed as the steady pounding of soft rock reverberates off her walls. Feet propped up on the headboard and knees wrapped with ice and plastic wrap, her heads tips off to the side of the mattress giving her an upside down view of her room while she lets her mind wander. And no matter how many times she tries to reign it back in, she can't keep a certain blonde haired blue eye woman from her daydreams.

Just as one song fades out and the tracks flips, an upside down Amelia Shepard appears at the catcher's doorframe. The veteran pitcher has been flying under the radar for the past few days to avoid the already questioning eyes of Callie Torres. But the Latina has been less than attentive recently and Shepard can only guess as to why. She doesn't like Arizona, but she does like Callie. She's a good captain, a good friend, and a phenomenal catcher. Torres and Shepard are a team, and when one person on the team is dragging, the entire battery drags.

"Still going to Hahn's tomorrow night?" Amelia asks, not bothering to ask if she can enter her captain's bedroom and taking a seat at the desk chair.

"She cancelled." Callie replies coolly. It's not a lie, it's just not the entire truth. Erica did cancel their usual 'date night'. But their 'date nights' consisted of food, wine, movies and talking shop. Now Hahn wants their 'date nights' to consist of lady kisses, foot massages and ending up naked in bed together. And when Torres said no, it's natural that the blonde would cut the Latina off all together, even though Callie hasn't spoken of the incident since.

Brown eyes find those of her pitchers and Callie notices the slight bloodshotness. "You still sick?"

"Huh?" Amelia asks, and when Callie gestures to the woman's eyes she adds "Oh no, it's allergies." The catcher doesn't believe her, and Shepard can see the skepticism in her friends eyes so quickly sidesteps with "Dinner is in thirty. And… well, you stink. So get your ass in the shower Torres." With a light clap on a tanned shoulder, Amelia quickly leaves the woman's room before anymore questions can be had.

Back in her own room, her door closed and locked, Amelia takes a deep breath and tries to quell the growing itch within her. She knows she is playing with fire, putting everything on the line. With a shaky hand, Amelia pulls open one of the drawers to her desk and dips underneath a pile of crap disguising her cache. It fits in her hand perfectly, and just the thought of what it can do to her makes her body hum with relief. And yet… there is that voice in the back of her mind telling her to stop. Quit it. She's chancing everything, and not just for her. But when she spies the small 3x5 inch photo lying on top of the pile, blue eyes blonde hair and dimples smiling back up at her with a pressed Marine uniform on, the temptation is too much and Shepard gives in again.

* * *

"Damn it." Arizona growls, upending her Marine standard bed and tossing the mattress to the side as she continues her search for her missing treasure. "Where are you? Where the hell are you, Tim?" She mutters to herself as she checks, rechecks… and checks again, every inch of her tiny dorm style bedroom. But when the blonde comes up empty yet again, blue eyes turn back to the wake of Hurricane Arizona and decide that it just can't possibly be in her room. So, stepping over piles and piles of her personal affects, which are usually put away in their proper places at all times, she marches straight into her roommates bedroom.

Teddy is sitting on her bed, leaning back against the wall and her feet dangling from the mattress, reading the latest Sports Illustrated when her friend comes barging into her room at full steam. A look of determination is set on Arizona's face as she immediately starts to rip apart the first baseman's room.

"Um… hello…" Teddy drawls, not moving from her place on the bed. "Can I help you with something?" She asks, like she is answering the front door to a perfect stranger. It's not that Teddy is an overly private person, or that her bedroom is all that neat to begin with. But she's not exactly sure she and Arizona are on the 'go through all your personal stuff' friend level. Though that doesn't seem to be stopping the newcomer.

"I'm missing something." Arizona states, slamming the desk drawers shut and turning to the closet.

"You mean you lost something?" Altman chances, returning to the nice picture of a very buff football player in her magazine.

"No…" Robbins drawls, looking back at her friend. "Lost would imply an action. I didn't do anything. It just vanished into thin air." She adds, then continues to dump out the taller blondes clothes until she finds the bottom of the hamper.

"Well how much longer is this scavenger hunt going to take? Because we have dinner in about twenty minutes." The first base man muses, turning her magazine up lengthwise to get the full effect of a shirtless Troy Polamalu, dreads and all.

"I'm not hungry." The pitcher mumbles as she turns back to the face the rest of the room, her hands resting on dirt covered shorts. She has yet to change from practice because Arizona has had other things on her mind. Finding her brothers picture, for one. But namely, her chat with Callie. Which is why she is hunting for her brother's picture. To get Callie out of her mind. …It's not working so well.

Barely lifting her feet as Arizona starts to dig underneath her bed, Teddy replies "Still have to go. Team dinner."

"What?" Arizona yelps, head shooting up in surprise and hitting one of the wooden support planks. "Damn it!" She groans as she tries to crawl back out, that spot already sensitive from her earlier run in with the underbelly of the golf cart. Sitting up on her knees and eyeing her roommate, Robbins asks "What team dinner?"

"The one that Webber sent a text out about this morning." Teddy answers, looking up from the top ten tips to a stronger mental game. "And an email…" But blue eyes just stare back at her, lost and confused. "…And announced at practice?" Still, the blonde before her registers nothing. "Seriously? How could you not have heard? What is going on with you Robbins?"

"Nothing!" Arizona snaps back, maybe a bit too aggressively to really make Teddy believe her. "Just… everything. You know? Guess I'm just feeling the heat." And it's true. On top of everything else, the weight of what she… they are about to undertake has hit her square on the shoulders. It's a big deal representing your country, especially one with such a rich tradition of bringing home gold.

Still, Altman doesn't believe her friend is telling her the full story. But she's learned that Arizona Robbins is a closed book, a woman with secrets that she doesn't want let out. Even after nearly three weeks of spending day in and day out with her, Teddy barely knows the blonde past what she can do on the field, and what kind of food she eats. And Teddy doesn't push it, because everyone has things they don't talk about. And part of being a good friend is realizing those things… and not talking about them.

So instead of pushing her to expand on her revelation, Teddy offers "How about you go get ready for dinner, and I'll keep looking for… whatever it is you lost."

"I didn't lose it." Arizona bites back as she stands.

"Whatever." Teddy replies, rolling her eyes dramatically while also finding her way to her feet. With a firm hand between Robbins shoulder blades, the first base man shoves the blonde out of her bedroom and in the direction of the shower. "By the way, what am I looking for?"

* * *

"Ladies!" Webber announces over the din of the team's numerous conversations. They are seated out on the patio of their usual watering hole, everyone enjoying a beautiful night and some good company.

When the head coach realizes that the woman are too engaged in their own thing to stop, he raps a knife against his water glass, a high pitch clinking filling the air. "Ladies, please…" The conversations drown out and soon fourteen sets of eyes are looking towards the head of the table, as well as Richard's three assistant coaches.

"Thank you. I promise I won't make this a long affair." The older gentleman says, smiling at the image of his team cleaned up and out together. It's not a formal dinner, but it's kind of a big deal when he gets to see all of his players wearing something other than knee high softball socks and dirt encrusted practice clothes.

"As you all know, tomorrow is our last official practice." Richard starts, and everyone applauds at the fact that their long journey has finally come to some sort of resting point. They are far from done, but at least the relentless practices and drills are about to die down in lieu of more game like situations.

Holding up a hand to silence the crowd again, Coach Webber continues "And to kick off our road trip, for tomorrows practice we will be scrimmaging Oklahoma City University's nationally ranked team. But tonight… I wanted to say that I am very blessed to take on this journey with you amazing ladies." He raises his glass to the table, then eyes his three assistant coaches "And gentleman. I truly believe that there is no finer team in the world. A fact that we will show everyone in just under a month when we step onto that field in London." Smiles erupt around the table. "So I'd like to propose a toast…."

Seventeen glasses get lifted into the air to accompany Richard's as he simply states. "USA."

"All the way!" The team toasts, players clinking glasses with those around them and taking a drink. With that, the women return to their earlier engagements, picking up conversations where they left off.

Callie Torres looks up and down the table, glancing at the face of each one of her team mates. She's nestled a little more than half way down from Richard, who is seated at the head of the table with the rest of the coaches. To her right is Amelia, and to her left is Naomi, the three of them arriving just on time after the Latina nearly made them all late. Brown eyes finally fall upon the face of Erica Hahn, seated abnormally far away from her co-captain. And this does not go unnoticed by the rest of the team but no one has the balls to question it.

And almost as if Erica can sense her gaze, the blonde looks up and locks eyes with Callie. For the past two days she has been licking her wounds and taking her hurt and anger out on her team. Erica Hahn is not one to be made a fool of, and that is exactly what Callie did. If the co-captain where in a reasonable, non-emotion filled frame of mind, Erica would understand the Latina's reservations. After all, it's not exactly ethical to strike up a relationship with a teammate, a fellow co-captain no less, just as their team is gearing up for the Games. But she's not in that place. No, Erica Hahn is in the dark place.

So when Callie offers a tight, reconciliatory smile from the length of the table, the blonde doesn't respond in kind. Instead dropping her gaze to the meal in front of her and aggressively poking at some kind of fish that she doesn't even feel like eating anymore.

Arizona, however, is unaware of this silent exchange as she is nestled between Addison and Teddy. The friendship that has sparked up between the blonde and redhead is something Arizona never really thought would happen. Sure, spending a couple hours sitting in the dirt sipping warm beer is one thing. But it's a bit different when the veteran player actually seeks the pitcher out to chat with. And that is what has happened numerous times since Tuesday night.

Leaning in close to Addison, seated on her left, Arizona whispers "You and Derek really need to cover your tracks better. …There was a nice ass print on the hood of the golf cart, and hand prints on either side of it when I was in there today."

The redhead, sitting directly across from a certain Latina, stops her fork midway to her mouth. "What?" She snaps, a bit louder than she wanted which makes Callie look up and see her friend and her… Arizona leaning in closer than necessary. Addison sends her roommate a smile then glances back to Arizona and says "That wasn't us."

But Arizona isn't listening anymore because those brown eyes sitting across from her and one seat down have sucked her in. It has only been a couple hours since their chat, but it seems like days. It's not right how much the blonde craves Callie's touch, Callie's lips, Callie's body. And what makes it worse is the notion that it can't happen. But that's how it always is, isn't it? You want the thing you can't have. The more forbidden it is, the juicier the fruit appears.

Calliope Torres isn't oblivious to Arizona's stare, her mind immediately forming an image of what their kiss must have been like. That kiss that Callie so wishes she was able to remember. That kiss that has haunted her in the worst of nightmares, and that has shined in her happiest of dreams. The Latina tries to imagine the way Arizona's lips tasted against her, the way her strong tongue would slip out between pink lips and trace over Callie's, pleading for entrance. How her fair body would feel pressed tightly against Torres's taller, stronger frame. The light moans falling from each other's throats as they grind and buck and rive against one another. The blonde's arousal collecting on Callie's thigh as she…

"Am I interrupting something?" Addison asks, making the Latina jump nearly a foot as she is propelled out of her day dreaming. Arizona pulls away from the redhead like she got bit, also shaking her mind of a very vivid image forming there.

"Uhh wha-what?" The blonde stammers, trying to rid her face of the heat now settled across her cheeks, an accompanying heat also lingering between her legs.

"I said, that wasn't us." Addison repeats herself, pretending like she didn't just see her best friend and her newest friend have the most intense three seconds of eye contact ever in the history of girl on girl action.

"But you two…" Arizona fades out, making a crude thrusting gesture with her hands while trying to avert her attention from the now very curious Latina sitting across from them.

"Yeah. But not on the golf cart." The veteran replies, then takes a big bite of her cheeseburger which signals the end of this line of questioning.

The blonde's brow furrows in confusion. If it wasn't Addison and Derek, who Arizona knows were getting it on in the teams equipment shed, then who was it? That butt print was definitely a woman's… because Arizona KNOWS a woman's ass when she sees it. And those hand prints were big, meaning that it was a man accompanying said woman. The way the prints were arranged left little room for speculation as to what the pair was doing on top of that hood. Arizona runs down the list of possible pairs there are on this team as she slowly looks from one team member to the next. But her eyes don't have to travel for long, because just off to the side of the head of the table is Coach Owen Hunt. A smirk plays across Arizona's lips as she remembers how she interrupted a particularly passionate make out which resulted in a very embarrassed redhead and a blushing first baseman. Slowly, Arizona turns her gaze to the woman on the other side of her, finding Teddy thoroughly enjoying her fajita tacos.

The catcher across the table sits and watches as Arizona leans in close to Altman and whispers something in her ear. The next second, the first base man is choking on her food and turning a color red that Callie never even knew existed. Arizona looks like she is about to burst from the laughter she's holding in while firmly patting her friend on the back to dislodge a piece of lettuce. All of which is enough to catch the attention of most of the teammates surrounding them.

"You alright Teds?" Arizona asks loud enough for everyone looking on to hear.

The taller blonde just coughs then takes a drag at her water before gasping "Yeah. Yeah, I'm good." And the stare Robbins receives from her roommate would be enough to send anyone running for the hills but Arizona just laughs and smiles.

Callie can't help but smile as well, not because of the scene Teddy just made, but because those dimples are the cutest thing she has ever seen. For the past few days whenever Arizona has smiled, it has been forced. But this smile… those dimples… are genuine. And all the Latina can think about is being the one that makes the magical tune fall from pink lips, being the one who makes those sweet dimples come to life. But no, she can't. Because she told Arizona she didn't want that. But she does… she really does.

Their good time is interrupted by someone shouting at the top of their voice "HELP!" Everyone stops and turns towards the voice. "Someone help! Please!" The voice is definitely a woman's, and it sets everyone's hair on edge.

A deeper voice yells "Is there a doctor here? Help! A doctor? Someone call 911!"

Without even thinking about it, Arizona bolts out of her chair and races towards the source of chaos, most of the team right behind her. The pitcher weaves through the tables and finds a hysterical woman, a scared man and a young girl who is quickly turning blue. The woman is pounding on the girls back, like she is trying to dislodge something from her throat.

"Move." The man yells, pushing the woman aside and wrapping his arms around the girl, giving her the Heimlich maneuver. Arizona looks down at the kid's plate finding the shell remnants of a mussel, quickly putting two plus two together.

"Stop!" Arizona yells. "Stop, she's not choking. Lay her out on the floor." She instructs the man. "Anyone have an epi pen? !" The blonde shouts, hoping to do this the easy way, but no one comes forward with one. So she turns to one of the shocked waitresses, she barks "I need your sharpest knife, a sterile straw, clean rag and a handiwipe." Kneeling down next to the not breathing girl, Arizona probes at the girls glands and neck, finding both extremely swollen.

"She… she took one of my mussels then then then started to choke." The man stammers while the woman looks on in terror.

"She's having an allergic reaction to the shellfish. Acute anaphylaxis. I need to perform a emergency Cricothyrotomy so she can breathe. What's her name?" Arizona asks, pushing aside the panic and drawing on years and years of experience.

"Samantha." The woman cries just as the waitress comes running to the pitcher with her requested items, a phone in her other hand as she blurts out what is happening to a 911 operator. By now most of the restaurant is huddled around the scene, staring down at the girl quickly losing her fight to live.

Tearing open the package of the handiwipe, the blonde quickly wipes the tip of the knife and then a small patch of the girls throat. "Ok, Samantha. Listen to me, my name is Dr. Arizona Robbins and I'm a surgeon. I'm going to help you breathe again but it's going to hurt… a lot. Just hang with me, ok?" She doesn't wait for a response because any extra second spent without oxygen is a second Samantha is closer to death. So with a calming breath, Arizona holds the girls neck still with one hand and glides the razor sharp knife with the other.

The girl's skin puts up a fight, but is quickly split and bright red blood seeps from her open wound. Gasps and murmurs and prayers are said around the circle, but it all fades from Arizona's mind just like every other time she's put cold steel to a child's flesh.

"Straw." Arizona commands, and the woman hands over the sterilized, or as sterile as a restaurant floor will allow, straw. "This is going to hurt, Sam. Hang tough sweetie." The blonde says softly, then pushes the plastic material through the open wound, breaking through the last few layers of muscle and tissues before finding the hollow airway she was looking for.

Blood sputters up through the straw as Samantha takes her first ragged breath in minutes, but finally the sound of clear air flowing in and out of the red instrument fills the air. "That's right, just breathe." Arizona sighs, taking the rag and protecting the wound from open air.

Finally blue eyes look up and find the mass of people surrounding her and the girl, her entire team shocked and slack jawed. Cristina and Meredith are standing up on chairs in the back, trying to get a better view while Teddy has an impressed look on her face.

And then she finds the Latina's gaze, the two sharing the briefest of stares before the woman, who Arizona doesn't believe is Sam's mother, asks "Is she ok?"

Turning her attention back to the preteen lying on the floor and trying to slow her breathing, Arizona answers "She should be fine. I'm guessing she's not your daughter."

"No. My husband and I are watching her for the night." The woman replies, tears streaming down her face. "We didn't even know she had allergies. Oh God! What do I tell her mother?"

The rumbling of a big engine, followed by the telltale clanking and banging of an ambulance gurney greets the blondes ears and she sends up a silent prayer in thanks before responding with "Tell her that her daughter is alive. And to get educated on how to deal with these kinds of allergies." An EMT kneels next to Arizona as she recounts what happened, along with a brief synopsis of the procedure done. Within minutes, Sam is being lifted into the back of an ambulance along with her caregivers for the night.

Patrons slowly go back to their seats as the restaurant staff clean up and get things back in swing. As she hands over a bloody knife to a very appreciative café owner, Arizona says "I suggest that if you serve shellfish or peanuts, you keep an epi pen on hand for emergencies. …And that your staff know how to use one."

"Effective tomorrow, we will." The owner replies, thanking the blonde once again for her fast action and calmness in the face of an emergency.

Stepping back out onto the patio, blue eyes find her team has resettled at their table. But as soon as Arizona takes a seat all conversations stop and every eye turns toward her. And this is what she didn't want happening. The secret she didn't want out. She has many secrets of course, but all her secrets seem to stem from this one big secret.

Everyone has one of those secrets. One that they cover up with other secrets and lies in effort to keep their past hidden. But one thing is certain; whatever it is we're trying to hide, we're never ready for that moment when the truth gets naked. That's the problem with secrets. Like misery, they love company. They pile up and up until they take over everything; until you don't have room for anything else, until you're so full of secrets you feel like you're going to burst. The thing people forget is how good it can feel when you finally set secrets free. Whether good or bad, at least they're out in the open, like it or not. And once your secrets are out in the open, you don't have to hide behind them anymore.

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AN2: Wowza… what a chapter huh? Let me know what you think. Much much more to come. Stay tuned, folks.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: Alright ya'll, another chapter is up! Yay. I know, it's been like a week. Sorry. I'll try to start getting updates cranked out faster. But anyways… last we read, Arizona is a surgeon. Hmmm…. Wonder how the team is going to take this. That is, if Arizona decides to open up at all. She hasn't exactly been an open book so far. So… let's check it out. Enjoy!

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Chapter 13

The sun beats down on Team USA as fourteen women are lingering around the outfield of Oklahoma City University's softball diamond. All the players are in their uniforms, perfectly white pants topped with a stunning red jersey. Brown eyes can't seem to pull away from a certain pitcher's ass as Arizona bends over and stretches out her hamstrings. The way that stretchy white material clings and shapes that behind has Callie Torres all but drooling. She's vaguely aware of the other 12 teammates milling about, all going about a casual stretch out session before their scrimmage today. All she can see is shining blonde hair tied back into a perfectly made ponytail and the way those blue eyes sparkle in the sun light.

"Hey." Someone barks, pulling the Latina out of her gawking. "Switch?" Addison asks.

"Uh? Oh, yeah!" Callie stammers, then immediately drops her left leg from her hand and changes her grip on the redhead's shoulder. But as soon as both of them are balanced again, brown eyes train onto Arizona again.

Addison smiles knowingly, then peeks over her shoulder to spy on what has her friend so enraptured. And she's not surprised to see it's the new girl. Facing forward again, which is directly at the Latina using the redhead as an anchor while they stretch their quads, Addison states "She's pretty."

"Who?" Callie asks, looking away from the vision in front of her and silently praying that the blondes jersey lifts just a bit more as Arizona stretches out her arms.

"The one that's making you act like a 15 year old boy." The redhead answers, then laughs when Callie snaps out of her daze.

"Why didn't she tell us?" Callie asks, glancing back over Addison's shoulder and meeting clear blue eyes. The Latina gives the pitcher a tight smile before nervously shifting her gaze away. Last night was very… strange. Her newest teammate saved the life of a young girl and, in turn, announced that she was a surgeon. After the blonde rejoined the team, there were many questions. But Arizona didn't answer them, just brushed them off. So now there is even more mystery surrounding the newest addition to Team USA, and Callie can't help but be drawn in even more.

"You two have been getting chummy. Did she tell you?" The catcher asks, shaking the memory of last night out of her mind.

"No, Cal. She didn't tell me anything." Addison replies with an eye roll. It's true she and Arizona have been spending more time together but it was out of mutual misery. One night of drinking beers in the dirt was enough to form some sort of bond between the two, and they've been building on it since. For the most part, Addison just uses their friendship as a means to keep from sleeping with Derek, but she also finds the blonde's company enjoyable. When not wallowing in depression and self pity, Arizona Robbins is actually a perky and upbeat person.

"Don't you think that's weird?" Callie questions, stealing glances at the blonde every few seconds. The smile on Arizona's face makes the Latina smile in turn, and she wishes that she were the one roughhousing with the pitcher instead of Teddy, who now has Robbins in some sort of military choke hold that Arizona is trying to break out of.

"I mean… a surgeon? Come on. That's something that people are proud of, right? Why would she hide that?" The Latina keeps asking.

"I don't know, Cal. Maybe she's not the gloating type. Maybe she doesn't like giving out free medical advice. Or maybe it's just something she doesn't want to talk about with a group of strangers that treat her like crap." The redhead replies, making Torres look at her like she's been slapped.

"Circle up!" Coach Webber hollers as he and his three assistant coaches stride onto the grass. Teddy lets go of the struggling blonde and all fourteen women form in a large circle, Callie and Erica taking the center. She and her co-captain lead the team through their stretches, as well as a couple warm up laps around the field.

Arizona Robbins can feel eyes on her the entire time. It's nothing new, really. She's been the black sheep of the team since she joined, but this time the stares are of a different nature. They are inquisitive, like if her teammates stare at her hard enough they'll be able to read her mind. The questions after her little emergency procedure last night were endless, but Arizona just brushed them off. It was no one's business what kind of surgeon she was, where she came from. What med school she went to or why she is playing ball instead of cutting people open. It wasn't their business. So the blonde didn't provide them with any answers. Hence… the staring.

Once the team makes its third lap around the fence, they reconvene at the outfield and loosen up. Callie throws back and forth with Addison while Teddy is Arizona's throwing partner. Everyone can feel the excitement and tension in the air. Yes, today is just a scrimmage. But it's the start of the next leg of the race. They aren't doing drill and sprints and batting cages for hours on end anymore. They are putting their practice into play, working as a cohesive team to win. And everyone is feeling it. Callie Torres has lost count of how many games she's played, it has to be in the thousands by now, but she still has that slight flutter in the pit of her stomach. And she loves it.

"Ok ladies, bring it in." Webber calls when he feels his team is properly warmed up. Collecting all the practice balls, fourteen women jog in from the outfield and pile into the visitors dug out. Across the field is OKCU's team, warming up and getting ready to take on Team USA.

"Today is a practice, but let's play like it's the real thing, alright?" Webber states as he looks across the faces of all his players. "Show these ladies why you have those American Flags on your jerseys." This gets a round of agreement from the Team, and everyone is just bursting at the seams to get some playing time in. "Hunt, the line up."

"Right." The redheaded coach announces, then takes a step forward and looks down at the batting line up. "Batting first, playing short. Robbins." A double clap from the teams lets him know the team heard him. "Batting second, playing second. Montgomery." CLAP CLAP "Third, playing third. Hahn." CLAP CLAP "Clean up, catching. Torres." CLAP CLAP "Fifth, at right. Yang." CLAP CLAP "Sixth, pitching. Shepard." CLAP CLAP "Seventh, playing center. Bailey." CLAP CLAP "Eight, at first. Altman." CLAP CLAP "And rounding off, in left. Grey." CLAP CLAP. "Everyone will get worked through today. So stay warm." Then Hunt gives his star player a tight nod.

"Bring it in, ladies." Callie calls, hopping off the bench and holding out a hand. Her team circles around, Arizona falling in behind the Latina and reaching over her to get a hand. The catcher has to tell herself to ignore the feel of the blonde being pressed against her, the feel of a breast pushed softly to her back, the feel of Arizona's light breath playing across her shoulder.

Across the huddle, Erica witnesses Callie's internal struggle. The way the Latina's jaw clenches and how she subtly leans back into Robbins a bit more than necessary. The co-captain gets jealous and spits "On me!" Brown eyes immediately snap to steel blue, but Erica doesn't wait for Callie to recover. "USA!"

"All the way!" The team yells, then breaks apart to get ready for the game.

Grabbing Callie by the arm, Erica halts the catcher's movement back to the bench. Leaning in so only Torres can hear her, Hahn sneers "Keep your flirting off my field." A strong hand pushes the blonde's grip off her and Callie gives her friend… ex-friend… a hard glare before turning her back to the woman. Addison doesn't miss this brief and quiet scuffle, but quickly looks away when Erica breaks her gaze from the Latina.

"Batter up!" The umpire announces minutes later, after OKCU has had a couple minutes of warm up on the field. The butterflies in Arizona's stomach starts to flutter big time. This is her first real at bat for Team USA and she really doesn't want to look like a fool. That is the last thing she wants right now.

All eyes on the bench turn to the newcomer as she approaches home plate. Most shout words of encouragement, while Hahn and Amelia sit in silence. Addison in the 'on-deck' circle gives the blonde a good luck slap while Derek in the third base coach's box adjusts his cap and gets into game mode.

With one foot in the batter's box, blue eyes turn to her coach and catches the sign. A deep, calming breath, and the blonde gets set. Eyes narrow as she prepares for the pitcher. Yellow goes streaking past, and then a loud "STRIKE!" is called. Another sign from Shepard, and Arizona steps back up. Callie is on her feet at the edge of the dugout and silently praying for Arizona to get on base. Brown eyes watch as the blonde squares around to bunt but pulls back for the call of a "BALL."

She battles until the count is full at 3-2. Finally Derek gives his player the 'swing away' sign and Arizona shifts from the left handed batter's box to the right handed batter's box. This doesn't faze the pitcher in the least, and quickly sends a rise ball to her batter. Arizona takes a big hack and connects soundly, sending a strong line drive between first and second. As soon as she connects, red cleats are moving like the wind and the blonde goes trucking down to first for an easy base hit. The bench erupts as their first batter gets on base, the game having been kicked off with a good omen.

The game progresses steadily. OKCU is a viable opponent, and puts Team USA through the ringer. Everyone is playing like the tip of the sword, making crisp plays and clean fields. Amelia is pitching like a champ, and Callie is commanding the field like a general. Arizona and Erica get along for the most part while playing third and short, and Teddy shows off her skills by catching anything within a fifteen foot radius of her.

As inning after inning comes and goes, the team starts to notice that OKCU's pitcher is playing them a little… tight. A little more aggressive than what the tempo of the game calls for. More than one Team USA member has had to hit the dirt or back out of the batter's box because of a pitch a little too close for comfort. And not only that, but she's playing dirty around the bases as well. There's a difference between playing hard, and playing dirty. And when you slide full speed into a tag you were never going to win just in hopes to connect cleats with flesh… that's dirty.

In the third inning, their pitcher actually hits Teddy Altman, as well as Arizona. She plays it off like it was an accident, but something tugs at Arizona's mind. She's seen this woman before. But where?... Then it clicks. This pitcher was at tryouts with Arizona. And she got passed over. So it seems this pitcher as a bit jealous and is trying to exact a bit of revenge on the team.

Top of the fourth inning, Montgomery and Bailey are pulled, and Little Grey and Naomi Campbell are subbed in. And every one of the six Team USA batters the pitcher faces in the inning, she goes after them high in the count. It's not until the batters are at risk of walking does she actually pitch something hittable. Callie notices this, as well as the rest of her team, but she suits up and heads out to take care of business.

The bottom of the fourth inning, Arizona is still at short, Amelia pitching and Callie catching, their pitcher comes up to bat. And the first pitch Shepard gives her, she drives deep into left, earning her a double. But she's not satisfied with just taking the base, but shoves Little Grey aside while Lexie was covering for a possible tag.

"Hey!" Arizona growls, immediately on edge with this woman who is messing with her team. "Better check yourself before I do." The blonde warns the runner at second, who responds with a sassy smirk and a hidden flip of the bird.

The next batter up strikes out, keeping OKCU number 23, on second. But the following batter knocks a dribbler between first and second for Yang to field. The runner on second takes off like a freight train to third and ignores her coaches sign to hold. Instead, she makes the turn and sets her sights on home. Callie sees the runner coming for her and sets herself up to protect home plate.

"HOME!" Everyone yells, directly Yang's throw directly to Torres. Callie catches the bullet of a throw and turns to the runner, now just ten feet from her. The Latina drops to a knee, preparing for a slide in attempts to knock the ball from her grasp. All eyes are on home, waiting for it to play out. But OKCU's pitcher has a different plan, and instead of sliding, she rams full force into the catcher.

Callie's unprotected face makes contact with the runners chest and the impact, sending her to her back…HARD. The pitcher falls on top of her and they tumble about. Arizona watches from her position of covering second, and is immediately running towards home.

"Ow…" Torres growls, her blinking coming slow and heavy as her mind works through the pain washing over her. But one thing she is certain of is her grip on the ball.

"OUT!" The ump shouts, but that's the least of anyone's worries by now.

Most of the infield circle around their downed catcher and co-captain, Arizona being the second to arrive behind Amelia. "I'm fine." Callie groans, accepting any hand that is offered to her to help pull her up. "Really, I'm good. Just knocked the wind out of me."

"Look at me." Arizona says, catching the Latina's attention out of the collective ramblings of her teammates. Brown eyes slowly focus on blue as Callie obeys her instructions. Holding out two fingers, Arizona asks "How many."

"Two." The catcher answers, then follows Arizona fingers as she moves them up and down and from side to side. "I'm fine, Arizona. I've taken worse hits than this." They both look over to their opponent and find her walking off towards her dugout, giving April Kepner a hard shoulder brush on the way by.

The next at bat for OKCU brings some changes to Team USA's fielding. Arizona is now pitching, Erica catching while Callie takes a break on the bench. The Latina swears she is fine but Sloan isn't about to chance it so he has his star player cool her heels for a while.

Knowing her opponents line up, Arizona gestures for Teddy and Lexie, first and second respectively, to come to the mound during their few minutes of warm-ups between innings. Turning her back to Erica, Arizona says "Let the inning play until number 23 is up again." Teddy immediately smiles, catching on to what her friend is up to. But it takes Lexie a minute to catch up. A few seconds later, and realization lights those young, genius eyes.

"Got it Robbins." Altman says with a smirk then back tracks to her position.

Turning back to her waiting catcher, Arizona takes a few practice pitches before the umpire calls up her first batter. Normally Robbins would face each batter head on, go nose to nose with them. But the blonde has a different game plan right now, one the involves letting a few batters slide past her to begin with. She throws the pitches called, but not with as much velocity as usual. Arizona tries to not make it seem like she's purposefully slacking off, because the last thing she wants to do is give a good performance while her coaches are still judging her. But still… she has a score to settle and its going to happen this inning.

One batter after another find their way on base. Whether from a walk that Arizona gives up, or Teddy pulls her foot a second early from the bag… they always manage to make it safe. Using the few outs they have to play with, Robbins times the plays just right to prevent OKCU from scoring, but keeps them playing long enough for their pitcher, number 23, to come up to bat again. By now its two outs, and a runner on first and third.

From the dugout, Callie watches as the blonde plays this game with the other team. She's not completely certain of Arizona's intent until she see's blue eyes narrow at number 23 striding to the plate. The Latina's fist clench by themselves, wishing she could be back out there on the field to show the bitch whose field it really is. But when Arizona lets the first pitch go flying, and number 23 hits the deck hard to avoid it, a huge smile crosses Torres' face.

Arizona smiles as she waits for number 23 to brush herself off and get set in the batter's box again. If it wasn't for the fact Robbins was sure it's not possible, she would swear that Erica Hahn is actually smiling behind her mask. But Arizona shakes it off and accepts the next sign, even though she has no intention of throwing it. With a big push off, Arizona sends a curve ball that just misses the batters jersey as she jumps out of the way. The look on OKCU's pitcher is hilarious… to Arizona that is… and makes the entire infield chuckle. It doesn't take long for everyone to catch up to the newcomer's plan, and her entire team jumps on board with it.

"BALL." The ump announces needlessly, then gives the pitcher a warning glare. Normally that would be enough to snap Arizona back into line. But she has a point to drive home, and she's going to do it. Setting up for the next pitch, she accepts the sign and Arizona pushes off the rubber with force. Yellow leather flies through the air and comes even closer to the batter, who actually yelps as she runs from the pitch.

"BALL." The ump yells, then takes a couple steps in front of home plate and points at Robbins on the mound. "Last one or you're out of here, got it?"

Arizona nods in understanding and accepts the ball back from Hahn. As she walks back to the mound, blue eyes lock onto her friends at first base, a smirk playing at her lips. Turning back around, Robbins glances to Mark Sloan, crouched at the corner of their dugout giving signs to Hahn, and see's him very unhappy right now. But still, it's not enough.

A deep breath, and setting her sights on her target, Arizona Robbins lets loose the hardest and fastest pitch yet. It flies through the air at max speed, and just grazes the bare flesh at number 23's elbow as it passes, ending with a slap against Erica Hahn's catcher's mitt. Having had enough of this game of cat and mouse, the batter rushes the mound and Arizona is ready.

"Bring it bitch." Arizona growls, dropping her glove and stepping up to the approaching batter, bat and all. In a second the entire Team USA infield has rushed to the pitcher's circle to keep the two apart. Callie is off the bench and back in the dirt the next second, helping Erica pull number 23 back from the pissed off pitcher. Most of OKCU have the mind to stay on their bench, and its only their coaches that come out on the field. Webber, Shepard, Hunt and Sloan are all in the scuffle now, yelling and hollering for their team to back up. All the while, Arizona and number 23 are shouting obscenities back and forth, vying to get at each other. …All because number 23 is jealous that Robbins made the team and she didn't.

"You're outta here!" The ump yells over the din of players and coaches bickering. That's enough to catch Arizona's attention, and after yanking her jersey out from her teammates grip, she grabs her mitt and storms off the field. "So are you." The umpire adds, pointing out the offending pitcher from the other team. Within seconds, everything calms down and Team USA retakes their position.

"King. You're in." Sloan barks, sending in a relief for the ousted blonde. Then he takes a handful of Arizona's jersey and tugs her down onto the bench. Blue eyes dare to look up at those of her pitching coach and she expects to see anger and rage. But when she meets those pale ice blue eyes, she sees… pride?

"You made your point." He says quietly. "You stood up for your team. Showed them you have their back." He adds, Callie approaching from behind and staring over the man's shoulder, catching the blondes gaze. "I get it. But it's not happening again, right?"

"Right." Arizona says, having to bite her tongue to keep from laughing. "Yes sir, not happening again." She adds, letting a chuckle fall from her lips as she watches Callie try to fend off her own laughter. Mark gives her a look that means he means business so Arizona screws up her best serious face and states "Really, I promise. Last trouble I'll cause. Promise. Cross my heart."

Callie actually laughs out loud as she witnessed the blonde cross her heart and then hold up her hand like a girl scout. She can't help but think how cute yet… hardcore this woman before her is. Only when she looks up and finds her friend and coach staring down at her does she realize that now is not a real good time to be laughing. So she too pulls on her best serious face and nods. Mark just looks between his pitcher and his catcher, then rolls his eyes and sighs. With that, he returns his attention to the game in progress.

A blush forms at Arizona's cheeks as she and Callie are pretty much left to themselves. Everyone one else not on the field is at the fence, watching the game. But the Latina is supposed to be resting, and Arizona… well, she's thrown out so she's not really supposed to be here.

Retaking her seat, which just so happens to be right next to a certain blonde, Callie clears her throat. "So… this a common occurrence for you?" She asks.

"Getting thrown out of softball games?" Arizona asks playfully. "Nope, first time. How'd I do?"

"It was pretty… badass, Battleship." Callie replies with a big smile, one that Arizona can't help but mirror. And the Latina's heart starts to flutter as those dimples make a showing, clear blue eyes light and bright with life. "I especially loved the 'bring it bitch." The catcher adds, reenacting the face Arizona gave 23 in the heat of the moment.

Arizona's mouth drops in embarrassment and then playfully slaps her co-captain on the arm. "Hey! Don't mess with me Calliope. I'm all amped up, never know what could happen." The blonde misses the slip of her tongue, but Callie doesn't and her mood immediately shifts from playful to seriousness. The way her newest teammate says her name sets her entire body on fire.

"You didn't have to do that you know." The Latina says, nodding towards the field in front of them. When the blonde's brows furrow in confusion, Callie adds "Getting yourself in trouble just to… prove to everyone you are a member of this team."

"That's not why I did it, Calliope." Arizona whispers, this time using her co-captains name on purpose. Their gazes meet and they both feel something pass through them. Some sort of energy, pulling their minds, bodies and souls closer together. But the loud DING of aluminum meeting leather pierces the air and pulls them both back to reality. The blond and the Latina share an awkward smile before popping their bubble and rejoining the rest of their team in the search of a win.

* * *

Arizona is currently buried deep into one of her medical textbooks, rereading a chapter that she's read twenty times probably. It's been a long, hot day, but it resulted in a win against Oklahoma City University, and now she is relaxing and getting ready for the near month long road trip ahead of her. But a sharp knock on her bedroom door pulls her out of her own little world. Blue eyes glance up and find blue eyes staring back at her. The blonde immediately goes on the alert, looking for some sort of weapon she can use to defend herself. Why else would Erica Hahn be in her room… alone. Just the two of them.

Sensing her pitchers minor freak out, Erica snaps "Relax. I'm not going to eat you." Then takes a step inside the freakishly neat room and closes the door behind her. Without even asking, the veteran player pulls out the desk chair and takes a seat.

"Umm… can I help you?" Arizona asks, sitting up in her bed and closing the textbook in her hands.

Erica stares right at the newcomer, and it takes all the willpower in Robbins body to keep from shrinking away. But finally Hahn says "I applaud you. What you did today. I… I never really expected that kind of fight from you. But it was good. Something I would have done."

"Thanks." The surgeon whispers, still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Arizona can't believe that Hahn would actually seek her out, come to her bedroom just to give her praise. That's SO not like Erica Hahn.

"That's not why I came here though." She adds, sitting up straighter so she has the height advantage of the two.

"Didn't think so." Robbins states, then puts the textbook aside to give her co-captain her full attention.

"This is a team, and we work as a team because we have rules. Rules that need to be enforced in order to keep working like a well oiled machine." The catcher states, her gaze wandering from the many different pictures tacked to the small corkboard next to Arizona's desk. "And if a rule is found to be broken, the only way to keep this team afloat is to cut the dead weight. ….Are you following me?"

"Not really." Arizona answers, quickly becoming tired of this conversation. "Hahn, I'm here to play ball. Alright? That's all. I got a little… sidetracked today because I can't stand someone stepping on the little guys. That bitch could mess with me, with you… hell, I trust Torres to be able to take care of herself. But Kepner? Come on… who, seriously, messes with a girl like Kepner. She wouldn't hurt a fly. Actually… she was crying yesterday about a spider in her bathtub." As much as Erica tries to fight it, a small chuckle falls from her lips. "So… I stood up. Took one for the team." Robbins adds matter-of-factly, then zero's in on what the stranger in her room is really talking about. "And as far as any other rule… I have no intention of breaking them. That's not why I'm here."

Hahn just nods, apparently content with the warning she instilled and the answer Arizona gave. So without another word, Erica stands and exits apartment 26, leaving a slightly confused blonde behind.

* * *

"Shep?" Callie calls, knocking on Amelia's bedroom door but gets no answer. "Amelia?" She tries again, then knocks harder.

"What? !" The pitcher yells, but its' not from behind her bedroom door, instead from behind the closed bathroom door.

"You still have my-" The Latina starts but gets cut off by a grouchy Amelia Shepard.

"It's in my room." She yells over the roar of her shower. Callie, thinking that's an invitation to go into her teammates room, enters and starts to look through the pigsty of the quarters in search of her personal possession.

"Oh my god…" Callie groans, finding a bowl of dried something that must have been in her friend's room for weeks. Whatever it is, it is at that stage where it is just about to grow white hair on it. Figuring it would be easier to just take it and not argue with the slob, the Latina just adds it to the pile of things she needs to do before leaving town tomorrow.

Continuing her search, the catcher digs through drawer after drawer, box after box, and bag after bag. During her hunt, she bumps into the bedside table and knocks over something that rattles. The noise catches her attention and makes her look at the mess she made… not that it would be noticeable ON TOP of the mess already made of the pitcher room. But dark eyes narrow as she spies an orange prescription bottle, silently wondering what kind of pills her friend has prescribed to her.

"Cele… Cel… Celecoxib?" The catcher murmurs, trying to make out the name of the drug. She's never heard of it before, so she unscrews the lid and tips the bottle up, spilling one of the pills into her hand. It's a small, round and blue pill with A215 imprinted on it.

"Hey!" Amelia snaps from the doorway, making Callie whip around and find a pissed off looking pitcher. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" She growls, storming into her bedroom and snatching the bottle from her co-captains hand.

"Amelia, tell me you're not on drugs." The Latina fires back. Suddenly all the little pieces and hiccups and missed practice and late nights fall into place. "Amelia Shepard… Tell me you are not STUPID enough to-"

"NO!" Amelia yells, cutting her friend off. "I'm not doing drugs. Alright?"

"Then what are those?" Callie asks, pointing to the orange bottle that her pitcher is currently shoving into a desk drawer and slamming shut.

"They're… anti-inflammatories. Ok? I pulled something at practice a couple weeks ago and I went to the doctors. He prescribed me an anti-inflammatory." Shepard answers, standing in front of and keeping guard to the desk drawer that houses more secrets than what is in that pill bottle. Torres glares at the shorter woman, not fully convinced. It just makes too much sense now, why else would Amelia be sick, puking, missing practice and bloodshot eyes day in and day out. Come to think of it, Callie can't remember the last time Amelia looked healthy. …Actually truly healthy.

"You DO realize that we have mandatory AND random drug tests, right?" The Latina asks. Only a stupid person would think they can get around something like this.

"Christ's sake, Torres." Amelia sneers, quickly becoming angry and agitated like a caged bird. "Look… here's your curling iron." She says, grabbing the object of Callie's hunt from the top of a pile the catcher had yet to search. "Now get out." The pitcher snaps. Callie slowly backs out of the room, but keeps her eyes locked on the towel clad woman until Amelia shuts the door in her face.

She can't be that stupid, can she? All the work Amelia has put in, all the work the rest of her team put in? The younger Shepard wouldn't throw that all away, would she? Then again, lots of people seem to be putting a lot on the line right now… Sometimes reality has a way of sneaking up and biting us in the ass. And when the dam bursts, all you can do is swim. The world of pretend is a cage, not a cocoon. We can only lie to ourselves for so long. And when the time is up, all you can do it pray that you didn't just ruin everything you know… for that one little lie.

* * *

AN2: So…. What's going on? Hmmm… let me know what you think.


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: Next chapter is finally ready. It's a long one, so get comfy and Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 14

Brown eyes watch as the Oklahoma landscapes races past the window, Team USA finally loaded up and on their way to the first of many stop along their journey to the Olympics. The hard thumping of her music invades her ears and the Latina lets her mind wander. They've only been on the bus a few hours, but already everything feels comfortable. Glancing away from the large window next to her, she looks towards the front of the large tour bus and finds her coach's heads sticking up from the first few rows. Behind them the team's two trainers have taken a row of benches and both Alex Karev and Jackson Avery are off in their own little worlds. Thirteen other women are littered throughout the rest of the cabin, everyone spreading out and claiming their territory for the large amount of time they will be stuck within this vehicle.

It's easy to see the friendships and ties each player has to one another this way. Grey and Yang have taken benches directly across from one another, whereas Erica Hahn is way up front, as far away from Callie and a certain other player as she can get. Charlotte and Amelia have taken their own little area to themselves and Kepner and Little Grey have as well.

Being in the far back, having the raised bench seat all to herself, Callie can't help but find the blonde curled up only two rows in front of her. Arizona was already seated when the Latina boarded, and they exchanged an easy smile and the Latina passed her and claimed the back for her own. The catcher's mouth goes dry thinking about spending three weeks watching and dreaming about the woman just five feet from her.

After a couple hours on the road, Callie's mind not resting a second the entire time, she decides to break the ice. After all, they ARE teammates. They should be able to talk freely and comfortably. Besides, Arizona has a certain set of skills that the Latina could really use right now.

Pulling her ear buds from her ears, Callie stands and walks the few feet forward to the seats Arizona is currently residing in. The blonde has her head buried in a book, attempting to study to keep her mind off the beautiful captain seated just behind her.

Clearing her throat to catch Robbins attention, blue eyes snapping up to find brown, Callie smiles and asks "This seat taken?"

"Not at all, Boss." Arizona replies with an equally friendly smile. Placing the heavy backpack crammed with all her notes and books in another seat, the pitcher gestures for the brunette to sit next to her. Just as Callie is lowering herself, the bus swerves out of now where making the captain fall into the seat. But she doesn't find just the empty seat, instead falling into Arizona.

They both laugh, looking away from each other to tame the blush that has ripped across both sets of cheeks before settling into a tense silence.

"So…" Callie drawls, unsure how to get to where she wants. "A doctor huh?"

A forced chuckle falls from pink lips. "Smooth opening, Torres." Arizona teases then flips her open textbook closed. Normally this would be the time that she would find some sort of exit out of the conversation, but for some reason she wants to talk to Callie. …Talk with Callie. About everything.

Callie just smiles and dips her head, mentally face palming herself. But seeing as Arizona is only the second woman she has ever tried to get to know on a more… personal level, she chalks it up to just being a little green.

"When you said you were older than me… I didn't think you were THAT much older than me." Callie plays, looking for something to get the blonde to open up a bit more.

"Mmmm." Arizona hums, a dimpled grin making its way across her face. "Well I'm not THAT old." When all she gets in reply is a disbelieving raised eyebrow, the blonde explains. "I started school a year early and I skipped the third grade. Plus I did my undergrad in two and a half years." She's not trying to gloat… well, maybe a little, but Arizona doesn't want her or the rest of the team thinking she is some sort of grandma.

"Right." Callie drawls, just loving how easy this little playful banter is between them. "So what's your specialty?"

"You tell me." The blonde questions, tipping her head in a cute little way that makes Callie chuckle.

"Hmmm… brains?" The Latina chances but gets a sour face from the pitcher. "Hearts?" Blonde locks wave back and forth as Arizona shakes her head no. "Bones?"

"Please. These hands are for making magic, not carpentry." Arizona replies, holding up her hands for display and deciding to bypass the little innuendo her mind seems to have slipped into her remark.

Callie, however, doesn't miss it but takes a cue from the blonde and ignores it as well. "A pediatrician. Yeah, I can see that about you." The Latina states, giving the woman a theatrical look up and down as if appraising her for the first time.

"No no. I'm not a pediatrician. I'm a pediatric surgeon." Robbins corrects her captain. "I don't do little diseases on little people. I do big surgeries… on little people." They both share a laugh, Callie nervously playing with the iPod clenched firmly between her hands.

"Hey… umm, I was wondering if I could ask you a question." The Latina states, peeking up and finding blue eyes staring back intently. "What do you know about a drug named… Cele-celecoxib?" Out of all the things Arizona had immediately listed in her mind, that was not what she thought Callie was going to ask her. The catcher sees the look of confusion, mistaking it for something else and asks "Do you know it? Am I saying it-"

"No, Cal. I- yeah, I know what Celecoxib is." Arizona quickly covers, pulling on her mask of professionalism again after letting it slip for the few minutes they've been talking back and forth. "Ummm… It's a generic anti-inflammatory. Nonsteroidal. Treats pains of various origins." The pitcher explains, then asks "Are you ok? That hit yesterday looked pretty bad. I could write you a-"

"No, no. Arizona, no. It's not that." Callie immediately answers, and she'd be lying if she said she didn't like how the blonde was worried about her health. "Just, someone I know was given it recently and I was just curious." She adds, and figures that what Amelia told her must be the truth.

* * *

Days blur into passing days. Mile after mile flies by the team as their tour bus whisks them all over the states. Starting in Oklahoma they headed west to California where they stopped and played against a couple of teams over the span of a few days. And then Team USA would pack up again and hit the road, heading to the next set of teams willing to put up a fight. During those long, boring days on the bus Callie would make the effort to move those few feet and sit next to Arizona. Sometimes she would bring a cup of coffee from the gas station they just stopped at, or other times the Latina would insist that the blonde listen to a song that just popped up on her iPod. Anything that would allow her the chance to spend time with and talk a little bit more with the mysterious woman. And the catcher can feel her newest teammate slowly letting down her guard.

After their second stop of their trip, the bus headed east and passing through the very large state of Texas, Callie plucks up her courage again. Arizona can feel the Latina move behind her, in fact, every hour of every day spent on the bus the blonde has been aware of everything Callie has done. Even through the beat of her music, Robbins can feel the woman who has been haunting her dreams approach.

And without even asking, because the seat is free… actually it's been free since that first time Callie asked to sit next to her… the Latina plops down next to the blonde. Tipping the package of gummi worms towards her captain, Arizona silently asks if the catcher wants one. And with a breathtaking smile Callie grabs a red one from the top and bites half of it off with vigor.

"You're weird." Arizona muses, watching as the other woman pulls the gummi worm further and further away from her clenched teeth until the substance finally gives. Callie just smiles and bumps the blondes shoulder while chewing on her eviscerated worm.

Despite her efforts and the repeated mental lectures, Arizona can't help but grow more and more enamored with the Latina. Everything about her makes Arizona smile, makes her heart pound, skin tingle and stomach knot. The way Callie stretches out on the back bench, her shirt riding up just enough for blue eyes to catch the slightest sliver of toned, tanned skin below. The way the catcher sings to herself along with her music as the loud rock noise keeps the newcomer from studying. But most of all, Arizona can hardly keep her tongue in her mouth when Callie strides out in her catchers gear and takes command of the field. The way the Latina leads her team, a watchful eye over all of her teammates and intimidates even the toughest opponents. …It's enough to make a certain blonde a little hot under the collar.

"I'm not the thirty year old eating gummi worms." Callie counters, pulling the newcomer out of her little day dream.

Arizona's mouth drops in shock. "I'm not thirty! How rude."

Torres lets out a deep belly laugh, one that stirs a couple of their teammates out of their light slumber, then says "Fine, so how old ARE you, Dr. Robbins?" The blonde mumbles something but Callie doesn't hear it. "Excuse me? What was that?" The Latina asks in a raised voice.

"Put a sock in it Torres!" Yang yells from a few benches up. "Some of us are trying to sleep."

Laughing at the outburst, Arizona leans in an inch and trying to ignore the goose bumps that have rippled over her skin, she whispers. "Twenty eight… and three quarters."

"Three quarters?" Callie questions, her smile nearly blinding the blonde right next to her. "What are you, eight?" This gets the woman a playful shove from Arizona, the two of them laughing quietly while the rest of the bus in front of them either sleeps or is off in their own little world. "That's not too old, I suppose." She plays, then eyes the bare goose bump covered shoulder right next to her. The pink and purple butterfly now has somewhat of a 3D aspect and the catcher can't resist bringing up a single finger and running it over dimpled flesh.

As soon as Callie touches her, Arizona's face ignites in a deep blush, one that the Latina doesn't see because she is too enthralled with the ink. Neither of them say a word as Callie takes her time exploring and studying the tattoo, her finger finding that hidden scar from long ago. The same scar that took Arizona out of the game just when she thought she was at her peak.

"I wasn't lying, you know." Arizona whispers after a long, and surprisingly intimate minute. Brown eyes flick up to blue but Callie doesn't remove her finger from the pitchers shoulder. "About when I got it? I wasn't lying… I did get drunk one night. But…" Her words fade out as a painful memory starts to flash across the front of her mind.

"But what, Arizona?" Callie asks in all but a breath. "There's more to the tattoo, isn't there?"

Blue eyes find brown just inches from hers, and she can feel Callie slowly peeling back those walls she built. The ones that were suppose to protect Arizona from getting hurt, protect herself from hurting the team. But something about them, they just pull her in. The warmth and the depth and the soul in those chocolate eyes are something that Arizona never expected, never thought could exist.

With a deep breath, Arizona starts a story that she hasn't retold since the ink made its way onto her skin. "It was my second year of residency at Johns Hopkins. And… I was still unsure of what specialty I wanted to declare. Yeah, I had plenty of time to figure it out but it seemed like everyone I entered into the program already knew what they wanted to do. Neuro, Cardio… General. Hell, there was even this shy, stutter-y guy that was amazing at Trauma. But me? I was like… floundering, you know?" Callie doesn't reply, afraid that any word from her lips will kill the mood and right now the captain really wants to hear what happened to this mysterious blonde.

"I had been assigned this peds case, a little girl that required multiple visits to the hospital. …It wasn't my first peds case, and to be honest I didn't really like Peds. Kids just aren't… my thing. But this little girl was something different. Something special. She was so sweet, and amazing. And strong. …As a doctor you're taught, you're told to remain distant from your patients. To keep that distance because getting too close could cloud your judgment, make you partial or biased. Well… I failed miserably with this girl. Every day I would spend time with her, laughing and playing and… and she loved to draw butterflies. That's all she drew, Calliope. …Butterflies. When you walked into her room, it was like stepping into butterfly heaven." A tear escapes crystal clear eyes but she keeps going.

"One morning, I came to work early like I always did. I would sneak her in a cinnamon roll and we would laugh, talk about butterflies or horses or unicorns until my shift begun. But that morning she went into multiple organ failure. I rushed her off to surgery, promising her parents I would save her. …I promised HER that she would be ok. I swore. I took her tiny, weak hand in mine and I stared into her eyes. …And I told her that she would be ok. But when we got in there… it was…" Tears are now steadily flowing down Arizona's cheek but neither of them make the move to brush them away.

Finally meeting brown eyes, Callie's heart breaking for this woman as she witnesses the pain it brings up in Arizona, the pitcher finishes. "She died. …On my table, Calliope. She died right there on my table and I could bring her back. I tried. I tried to bring her back but she just… she wouldn't come back. My attending had to pull my hands out of her chest cavity because I wouldn't stop pumping this girl's heart for her. This girl that I had spent months and months and months with, getting to know her and laughing and talking with her… she was gone. And I couldn't do anything about it."

Wiping at her eyes, Arizona lets out a forced laugh. "I've lost patients before. I've lost kids before but this one… she was different. It was like I was losing a loved one, because I did. I loved her. Maybe not in the same way has her parents did, but I did love her. She was my friend."

"What was her name?" Callie asks, her voice thick with emotion and unshed tears.

"Sofia." Arizona whispers. "And she was… everything good about life wrapped up into a beautiful six year old. …So, after a day of crying my eyes out, I got drunk. Cried some more. And…"

"Ended up getting a tattoo of a butterfly." Callie finishes for her. The blonde nods solemnly, staring deep into dark eyes and wanting nothing more than to feel the Latina touch her again. Because she is sure that if there is anyone out there, anyone at all that can make the pain filling her life disappear it's this woman.

And as if she can read Arizona's mind, Callie places a warm hand on stained flesh before her. Blue eyes close as the pad of the Latina's thumb ghosts back and forth across naked skin, soothing and comforting the blonde as much as she dares to. "It's beautiful." Callie whispers, not even sure if she is actually saying the words or just thinking them. But Arizona hears it and nods.

"Why did you pick peds then?" Torres asks, removing her hand from the woman's shoulder before she crosses a line that would be dangerous for not only her, but for the whole team.

"Because I wanted to believe in magic too. Just like Sofia did. …And the next time a kid ended up on my table with the same condition as Sofia, a 7 year old name Matthew, he made it. He lived. He woke up after surgery and went home. And so did the one after him, and the next. And the next. …Because of Sofia, what I learned from her has saved more lives than I can count. And I call that magic." The pitcher answers, a smile forming on her face for the first time in twenty minutes.

Lifting a finger and catching one last tear as it streaks down a fair cheek, Callie whispers "Me too."

* * *

Callie Torres fights to find sleep. The large double bed would normally welcome her, draw her into deep, restful dreams. But not this morning, not now. Because whenever Callie closes her eyes, she sees the face of a woman she can't get out of her mind. Blonde hair hanging perfectly over fair, tattooed shoulders, or pulled up beautifully into a ponytail as the pitcher takes the mound. Everything about Arizona has the Latina enamored. Her mysteriousness, the strength lurking behind glacial eyes. The pain buried deep down that Callie has only recently tasted. It was just yesterday that Arizona opened up, told the captain one of her most painful secrets. And now… now the Latina can't get it out of her mind.

Sitting up in her bed she looks over to the double bed next to hers and finds Addison sprawled out, taking up the entire bed and the faintest of mumblings falling from her lips. A snarl curls Callie's mouth, hating that her friend can sleep so easily when it's such a problem for the catcher. Flopping back down in the soft sheets, dark eyes close and the Latina's tries to clear her mind. Then sheep pop up in her vision, and a fence. Slowly, they jump over the fence as a quiet voice in her mind counts them. And still… sleep evades her.

Pupils widen as she opens her eyes again, finding darkness around her. Turning her head, the angry red light from the bedside clock reads 4:51 am. An hour no one should be up at. Growling, Callie reaches next to her and finds a pillow, pulling it over her eyes.

"Please…" She groans, begging for sleep. Minutes pass, but the calm never comes. Bolting up again, she throws the pillow to the closest wall and climbs out of bed. Addison barely flinches as her roommate grabs a set of workout clothes, changes, then walks out of their hotel room.

The halls of the hotel are quiet, most of the floor holding the rest of her teammates, coaches, and trainers. The Team isn't due anywhere until 11, which means Callie probably won't see anyone else until 10:30.

Because she's in a foreign city, the Latina decides to forgo running outside and instead heads to the hotel's workout room. She needs to run, to clear her mind and set things back into perspective. But that goal goes flying out the window as soon as the catcher steps into the cardio room. There, not even ten feet in front of her, is the very shapely ass of one Arizona Robbins. The blonde obviously hasn't heard Callie enter, so brown eyes watch as the newcomer slowly lowers her body, moving smoothly from one Yoga pose to the next.

Normally Callie isn't one to call Yoga a workout, and watching Arizona do it only strengthens this resolve. It's not a workout, it's an art. A beautiful art. The way toned arms strain as the blonde supports her weight while her head points straight up into the air. A deep breath from Arizona makes Callie breathe as well. Then she smoothly moves into the next pose, and the next. All the while Callie stands there, entranced by the woman and her fluid movements. The calmness that is over Arizona draws the Latina in, wishing she too could find that kind of calm in the world full of chaos.

A slow breathe is blown out of pink lips as Arizona moves to the next pose, her eyes opening and finding her captain there, staring at her. Clearing her throat, the catcher attempts to recover from being caught ogling the woman in yoga pants and a tight tank top. "Uhh… morning, Battleship." She stammers, ungluing her feet from the floor and moving to the empty treadmill.

"Morning Calliope." Arizona replies with a smile, then moves to the next pose.

Callie nervously starts up the treadmill and warms up. She tries to remain cool, but the mirrored wall in front of her doesn't help matters because now she has a perfect view of Arizona's chest. Glorious cleavage fills her eyes as Arizona moves from one pose to the other. Mile after mile passes beneath pounding feet, all the while brown eyes take full advantage of the well placed mirror. The Latina isn't quite sure how long she spends staring at the blonde, but it's a second too long because her foot catches the side of the machine, knocking her off balance.

Arizona is startled out of her routine, looking up and watching as her captain fights to stay on her feet. A bright blush rushes across tanned skin when Callie finds her gaze, pulling the emergency stop and ending her run miles before she is usually done. Arizona chews on her bottom lip, trying to keep the fit of laughter buried deep, not wanting to embarrass the younger woman by laughing in her face about nearly falling. But when Callie herself starts to laugh, Arizona readily joins with her.

Callie wipes the sweat collected on her forehead off with a white rag while watching Arizona roll up her mat, stowing it back where it came from next to the set of dumbbells that lines one side of the room. "You uhhh… you want to get some coffee?" Callie asks, not wanting to go back to her room with a sleeping redhead. But more importantly, she doesn't want to leave the company of her teammate.

"Yeah, I'd like that." Arizona replies with a dimpled smile. "And this time it's on me." She adds, hip checking the Latina as she passes on her way to the exit.

* * *

"What the hell are you looking for?" Teddy asks as she walks out of the bathroom, her shiny red shorts and flowing blue jersey hanging from her body. The first baseman watches from the reflection in the mirror as her roommate digs through her purse, silently cursing to herself as she tosses item after item from the bag.

"Robbins, you need to get changed. We're due downstairs in 10." Altman adds while pulling her long hair into a ponytail.

"Where is it?" Arizona growls. "Damn it, I know it's in here somewhere."

"What?" Teddy asks, stepping up next to her friend.

"My… my prescription pad. I know it was in here." The blonde answers, finally upending the bag and letting its entire contents come spilling out. Tubs of lip gloss, her wallet, pieces of scrap paper, gum, mints, a spare pack of cigarettes just in case, and her iPod all fall out onto the bed. But no prescription pad. There is no real particular reason why it hit her all of a sudden, but just as she and Callie had parted earlier this morning, she realized it had been weeks since she's seen her pad. Actually, the last time was right about when she joined the team.

* * *

"Torres, Hahn, get over here." Coach Sloan hollers as Team USA is warming up for their scrimmage against some ranked Texas college team. The two captains give each other a look, but Hahn ends it abruptly with a roll of her eyes. And Callie is certain that eye was directed at her, not at Mark. "Robbins, Shepard, you too. Over here." The man adds.

The four women jog over to their pitching and catching coach where he is going over the lineup with both Hunt and Derrick Shepard. "What's up, Mark?" Amelia sneers, her head pounding and stomach rolling just from being out in the hot summer sun.

"Webber wants to switch it up a little. Robbins and Torres will be the first battery. You and Hahn will be relief." Sloan states matter of factly, not even looking up from his play book.

Callie and Arizona share a smile while Amelia and Erica snap "WHAT? !"

"I'M first string!" Amelia exclaims, quickly drawing the attention of the rest of Team USA, as well as that of the Texan team. Derrick head snaps up as he hears his sister go into a rage, along with Owen. They aren't newcomers when it comes to the wrath of women, but the fury in Amelia's eyes is dark and scary. "Not Utah! I've been busting my ass for-"

"Can it, Shepard!" Callie yells, making everyone in their small circle jump. "Sloan says your relief, you pitch relief. You will ride that alpine until you are brought into the game. Try being part of the team for once, and not just a solo player." The Latina meets the glare radiating off of Amelia, and she doesn't back down. Callie is tired of it being all about Amelia, all about being first string and making sure Arizona is always a step behind.

Hahn watches as two of her oldest teammates quarrel with one another. She never thought she'd see Callie call Amelia out like that. Of course, Shepard is a bit selfish and self centered, but she has the talent to back it up. Being an ace on the field makes up for a lot of flaws off the field, and for years the co-captains let her little attitude problem slide. But now Erica's jaw clenches as she witnesses Callie finally snap. …All because it would give Arizona a shot to move up in the standings.

The veteran pitcher wants to lash out, wants to let her words go flying but she doesn't. Instead she bites her tongue and turns on her heel. Hahn follows, but not before sending a look that could kill to the other blonde.

"Well Battleship…" Callie drawls, gaining the attention of the blonde pitcher. "Guess we should get you warmed up." And suddenly the butterflies start to flutter like mad within Arizona's stomach. It's not just pitching anymore, or pitching for the best team in the country. But now she is pitching to the best catcher on the best team in the country… who Arizona just so happens to have the largest crush on in recorded history. What could go wrong?

* * *

A smirk plays across Mark Sloan's face, one that is mirrored in Hunt's, Shepard's, and Webber's, as the four coaches witness a piece of perfection. It's a rare thing when a pitcher and catcher just… click. But watching Arizona Robbins tear through Texas batter after Texas batter, all the while Callie calling each pitch, they know it's happened here. How Mark didn't see it before, why he didn't put them two together earlier, he doesn't know. But now that he has seen it, he can't go back to the way things were before. Not when it's a perfect as this.

The feeling of being on fire, being untouchable runs through the veins of Arizona Robbins. She can't remember the last time she's lit up the circle like this before, but she can't help but think that it has something to do with the woman behind the plate. The one that keeps her focused, the one that directs the field. Callie's the best for a reason, but with Arizona… she's better. The entire team can feel the energy shift. They worked well before, but now with Arizona on the mound and Callie behind the plate… they are smooth as ice.

"Strike three. YOU'RE OUT!" The home plate ump calls, and Arizona cashes in her second strikeout of the inning. Callie tosses the back towards the mound while she and Arizona jog off the field in the direction of their bench. Four innings in, and the Latina can't believe how well the blonde is doing. Sure… it has something to do with her catcher, but Arizona has raised her game to a whole other level.

"Nice shooting, Battleship." Callie purrs, sending the blonde a playful wink as she starts to pull off her catching gear.

Stepping behind the Latina and helping her with the chest guard clasps, Arizona replies "Had a hell of a target, Torres." Luckily for Callie, her back is to the blonde so Robbins can't see the blush break across her face, and when she turns back blue eyes take in the megawatt smile her captain is giving her. Their gazes meet, neither knowing what to say and neither wanting to break this little spell.

But Coach Shepard yelling "Top of the order. Robbins, you're up!" breaks them apart.

Taking a step back, putting another foot between them, Arizona gives Callie a dimpled smile before grabbing her batting glove and bat. "Start us off, Robbins." Torres says the blonde walks around the fence and approaches home plate.

Arizona gets on with a slap, and quickly steals second when the Texas catcher is slow to return the ball to the pitcher. It still amazes half of Team USA that the spunky little blonde possesses that much speed. And Coach Webber nearly salivates at the idea of extra stolen bags during the games in London. Addison is up second but pops out, and Naomi bats third. A hard line drive just past shortstop leads to Arizona advancing to third and Campbell being held up at first. Which leads to Callie, hitting clean up.

The outfield naturally takes a couple steps back as the power hitter stands at home, brown eyes surveying the field in front of her and taking stock of the situation. One out, runners on first and third. A nice juicy hole between the right outfielder and the chalk line. That's her target. As far away from third as possible in hopes of bringing the runner in scoring position home.

"Come on, Cal! Bring me home, baby!" Arizona yells from her place at third. It's just natural that that name falls from her lips, but as soon as it does, she and Callie lock gazes. Trying to play it off, as if it was nothing out of the ordinary, Arizona yells again "Come on. One time, Cal. One time. Bring me home."

Not even checking her sign from Derrick, Callie steps into the batter's box and gets set. A deep breath, a little sway of the hips to loosen up, and her fingers grip at the bat. The Texan pitcher winds up and sends a screaming of a ball. Strike one is called. The Latina hears the cheering of her team behind her, the calling from Arizona down at third. But that doesn't matter, her vision tunnels, concentration focuses. Another pitch, ball one. The ball gets sent back to the pitcher and she tries to ice Callie.

"Time." Callie calls when she's had enough of waiting. She takes a step out of the box, swings a few practice swings, now making the pitcher wait on her.

"That's right Cal. Your time, now." Arizona hollers, taking a breather on third as she watches her catcher play with the pitcher.

Stepping back up, Callie gets set again. And this time she takes a hack, a swing that connects solidly. The ball goes screaming down the right field line. Arizona races home, not even a play to beat, while Naomi and Callie truck around the bags. The right outfielder gets to the ball and throws it home just as Campbell is rounding third. Arizona see's its going to be a close play and signals Naomi to slide. The Texan catcher catches the ball a fraction of a second late as the runner slides between her legs and touches home safely.

"Yeah!" Arizona yells, she and Naomi slapping each other's hands, helmets and butts in enthusiasm. Turning to the woman now at third, she sends a big dimpled smile while exclaiming "That's it, Cal! Nice hit!" Callie just smiles, and silently wishes that she had the reason to slap the perky blonde on the ass just like Naomi did.

The next USA batter steps up and sends a hit right to the Texan shortstop. As soon as the player turns her throw to first, Callie takes off for home. The first baseman gets the out and quickly fires home. Callie knows there's going to be a play for home and braces herself. She can see the catcher steel herself as well. They both get low and Torres lays down in a perfect slide. The catcher takes the hit and falls on the Latina.

Arizona watches the hit, and the way Callie's head bounces on the ground makes her sick. Everyone sees it, and a few even gasp out loud. It's not natural, that kind of bounce. …A skull isn't supposed to bounce.

The catcher drops the ball, and the umpire calls "Safe!" The Texan catcher disentangles herself from the Latina, but Callie doesn't move. Before Arizona knows it, she up off the bench and running towards her downed teammate, Alex quickly on her tail.

Callie's mind is fuzzy, her vision blurry and it feels like she is on some kind of boat because the ground beneath her seems to be rocking from side to side. And she must be in some kind of dream because the next thing she sees is deep blue eyes staring down at her. A dopey grin crosses plump lips, liking whatever kind of heaven she is in right now.

"Cal, Callie? Can you hear me?" Arizona asks, grasping at the Latina's limbs. "Do you feel that?" All she gets is a doped up grin and a nod of the head. Looking up, she finds Alex's gaze. "Reflexes are good. Probably just a concussion. We need to get her out of the sun."

"The other team has a small training room attached to their locker room." Karev replies, slowly pulling the players helmet off. Between the two of them, they get Callie up on her feet and moving back towards the dugout.

Mark is waiting at the threshold, nervous about the news of his player. "Is she-"

"She's fine. Probably a small concussion. Umm, I'm going to give her a once over. Just in case." The blonde states quickly. She doesn't even wait of an 'ok' before following Callie and Alex to the small building a few hundred feet away. All Arizona hears is her coach yell for Hahn to get suited up and Amelia to start warming up for the next inning.

Once inside, Arizona directs Alex to the first of only two padded training benches. The haze in Callie's mind has slowly started to dissipate and now a low throbbing is taking over. But the drugged up smile still crosses her lips as she watches Arizona direct the trainer as to what to do.

They get the injured player up on a bed, and Arizona says "I got it from here, Karev. She'll need to rest for a while, I'll watch her. Why don't you go back out to the field?"

"Whatever." The trainer mumbles, and without another glance leaves the two players alone in the small, air conditioned building.

"How you feeling, Boss?" Arizona asks as she grabs a pen light from the medical bag Alex left for her and tests the brunette's pupil response.

"A little dizzy…" Callie murmurs while trying to shake the fog from her eyes, only to end up making herself even more dizzy and she starts to fall back. In a last split second hope to right herself, she reaches forward and grabs the front of Arizona's jersey, which inturn makes the blonde tip forward slightly as well. "Ok, a lot dizzy." She corrects herself, and lets go of the blonde.

"Pupil response is fine." The pitcher mumbles, wishing the heat that just hit her body would leave. For some reason the air conditioning in the small room isn't helping any. "Squeeze." She states, holding out both hands with two fingers pointed. Callie grabs and squeezes, applying equal pressure to each. Arizona does a few more routine tests just to make sure, all the while brown eyes watching her and smiling.

"What?" Arizona breathes out, a dimpled grin managing to break through her usual mask of professionalism. She's felt the burn of the brunettes stare on her for a few minutes and now she can't take it anymore.

"Nothing." Callie replies with a shrug, that dopey, drugged up smile crossing her lips again. "Just… I wish I remembered." Maybe her inhibitions are lowered because of the bump on the head, or maybe it's because she and Robbins have been spending more time together lately, but Callie can't seem to stop herself.

"Remember what?" The pitcher asks, still standing right in front of the seated catcher.

"Kissing you." The Latina states, and the temperature in the room skyrockets. They both feel it, and Arizona is sure her heart rate doubles. Brown eyes flick down to pink lips in front of her, then back up to baby blues, waiting for a response. When she receives only silence, Robbins trying to swallow a lump that has formed in her throat, Callie adds "Because I'm sure it was very _very _nice. I wish I remembered it."

"We didn't." Arizona says softly, unable to pull her eyes away from the woman seated before her. Somewhere along the way, Callie's legs have parted enough for the blonde to stand between then, bringing their bodies even closer together.

"We didn't?" The younger woman asks, and blonde hair waves in it's ponytail as Arizona shakes her head no. "We didn't kiss?"

"No. We didn't." Robbins replies, and Callie doesn't miss the longing in the woman's voice.

"Good." Torres states, making blue eyes narrow immediately. And Arizona can hear the words 'I don't want to kiss you' playing in her head all over again. Seeing that the blonde is starting to retreat again, Callie quickly says "Because… I'm going to want to remember this." A tanned hand snakes out and grabs a clump of silky blue jersey, pulling Arizona in a fraction of an inch. She gives the pitcher a chance to pull back, a chance to call it off, but it never comes.

Arizona's heart feels like it's going to beat out of her chest. Her mouth has gone dry and her skin is on fire. Brown eyes just inches away from hers keep her enthralled until both chocolate and cerulean flutter close. Lips part fractionally, their breaths intermingling between them, heads tip to the right. Arizona is a second away from getting her wish, Callie is a second away from tasting the sweetness she has only dreamed about.

But when the door to the training room gets yanked open, both Callie and Arizona jump away from each other like they have the plague. Striding into the room is a very oblivious Mark, a smile on his face. "What's the word, Blondie? Is our superstar going to be ok?"

A hand comes up and wipes at her lips while the other smoothes her wrinkled jersey. "Yeah. Yeah uhh, Callio- Cal- Torres will be just fine."

"Great." Mark exclaims, then gives the Latina a clap on the shoulder. "You two were hot. Really hot. You felt it right? Tell me you two felt that chemistry." Brown eyes lock with blue, what happened thirty seconds ago replaying in both their minds.

Clearing her throat, Callie manages to get out "Yeah. I felt it. Did you… Arizona?" Perfect white teeth pull at a plump lower lip as the Latina tries to keep a straight expression.

"Yeah. I uhh, yeah. Definitely felt it." Robbins replies but Mark is less than interested in their responses.

He is already on his way out of the room, and over her shoulder he yells "You two are on fire. Guess who just got a new pitcher, Torres. You and Arizona are a team now. So you two better keep up that heat." With that he is back out in the hot Texas sun, completely oblivious to what he walked in on.

* * *

AN2: SOOOOO close. Yet so far. You hate it, but you love it. You love the burn. The simmering. Admit it, lol. Alright, a lot went on in this chapter. Arizona opened up a bit, but there is still many layers left to peel back. While Callie, herself, seems locked up tight. Will she ever let the blonde in? And I dropped a few other little… bits into this chapter. Its slowly starting to unfold. Let me know what you think. And as always, I greatly appreciate you all for reading and sticking it out with me. Reviews rock my socks off! Thanks.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: Ok, going to address a couple things first. One, I DID post all the removed chapters from CGAH into its own story. If I get banned, so be it. I'm tired of the BS and drama. Wanna ban me, fricken ban me. Two, I do intend on posting here until I can't anymore. I have a Live Journal (find link in my profile) and am currently working on getting it up to date, but when I have multiple stories and nearly 300 chapters to upload, it takes a while. And finally, I want to thank all of you, verbal or not, who support us writers while those pansy ass, no balled, chicken sh*t anonymous reviewers are trying to stir up trouble. It really is amazing and I thank you. Truly and deeply, thank you.

AN2: That being said, I am pleased to give you the next chapter of this story. I think you guys will like it. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 15

Much to their displeasure, as soon as Mark left Callie and Arizona in the training room alone, a Texan player was brought in after having tripped and sprained her ankle while running the bases. The two USA players remained a safe distance away from one another, Torres relaxing and trying to get over the pounding in her head while Arizona tried to calm the pounding in her chest. They had nearly kissed, their first kiss. And it was going to be awesome, the blonde knew it was going to be awesome. …And then Mark. And the news that she and Callie were now a team within the team. Callie was her catcher. She was the Latina's pitcher. And that complicated things. …A lot.

Which is what a certain Peds surgeon is thinking about as Team USA's tour bus turns north on its way up to Illinois. It's been two days since their almost first kiss, and since then Arizona has been avoiding the captain. That voice in her head is screaming at her to stop, to keep it professional. After all, it's not personal, it's business. That is her mantra, that is what she swore to herself. But now… now it's quickly becoming very very personal. And Robbins is starting to panic.

From the back seat, her bench raised up allowing her to gaze upon her team spread out before her, brown eyes find long, toned legs propped up just a few benches in front of her. Arizona has her feet propped up on a seat across the aisle and her body laid out over her bench. Callie can't see the blonde's face, but she's felt that chill that has settled between them. Just when Torres thought she made a break through, just when she thought she got Arizona to open up… the blonde retreated back into the protective shell of hers. Two days of dancing around each other, not talking, barely even seeing one another. And it's killing Callie. Because the memory of that kiss, that almost kiss still lingers in her mind and on her lips. She craves the taste of Arizona, the feel of fair skin against hers. But the catcher is afraid to push her teammate, because that would do no one any good.

Cerulean blue stares up at the ceiling of the bus, her head resting on a pillow as she lays down across her bench. The steady beat of the music playing in her ears mixes with the calming movement of the passing ground below her. It should be enough to relax her, pull her into sleep. But it's not. Not when she has Callie on her mind, as well as the rest of Team USA. Their goal is plastered in the forefront of her vision, seeing those five interloping rings and all they represent. It's really happening, she is really on an Olympic team. A dream she never even knew she had is coming true. Then why is she risking putting it all on the line for one woman. One woman who she doesn't even know… not really. She doesn't know anything about Callie, besides the fact she's the best catcher Arizona has ever seen. And she can cook. Has a smile that could melt an iceberg. And her eyes… it's like staring into the entire universe, that's how deep they are.

* * *

Team USA makes their pit stop of this leg of their road trip, players spilling out of the bus in search of real bathrooms, food, drinks, or just a place to stretch out their legs. Eyes of the truckers light up when they see more than a dozen good looking, in shape woman fill the homey truck stop, everyone breaking off into groups of two or three. They've been driving for eight hours, and have just as long to go before making it to Chicago, so everyone agreed that they needed to get out of the bus for a while.

Amelia watches from around a corner as Arizona meanders through aisle after aisle of the small convenience store. It's been two days since the younger Shepard was told the news that Torres was now Robbins catcher, and since then the short brunette has been simmering in anger and jealousy. Callie is HER catcher, Amelia's. They have been working together for years. Amelia can read Callie's mind, Callie can read hers. They know each other's moves before either of them can make them. And then little miss Blondie comes marching onto the team and screws everything up. Why shouldn't Amelia be pissed off?

The veteran pitcher nearly jumps out of her skin when someone behind her whispers "What are you doing?" Dark eyes snap around, only to find those of steel blue ones looking down at her.

"Damn it, Hahn." Shepard growls, her heart nearly pounding out of her chest.

Looking over her, now, pitchers shoulder, Erica sees Arizona leaning into one of the refrigerator units while perusing the huge selection of drinks. "You weren't going to do anything stupid now, were you Shep?" Hahn sings.

"Of course not." Amelia replies shortly, then grabs the first thing she can grab next to her. "I was looking for… this." She says, holding up a set of jumper cables. Thin lips purse when Erica glances down at the object, then look back up to dark eyes in front of her. With one last look over the woman's shoulder, catching the tight, forced smile Arizona sends their way before turning a corner and leaving her line of sight, Erica turns on her heel and goes about her own thing.

Once her captain is out of earshot, Amelia drops the jumper cables on the ground with a loud smack and grinds her teeth. She easily zeros in on Arizona again, whose sickeningly perky giggle comes from the front of the store, and finds her checking out at the register. The man there manning the register is nearly falling over himself as the newcomer chats animatedly with him, bright blue eyes and dimples making the poor boy melt into a pool of drool.

"Ladies!" Derek calls out, catching the attention of players and other patrons of the truck stop. "Let's get a move on. Ten minutes the bus is leaving, whether you're on it or not."

With a roll of her eyes, Amelia heads to the bathroom and locks herself into an empty stall. Most of her teammates have already used the facilities and now there are just a couple other women she doesn't know milling about. But the pitcher isn't worried about them as her shaking hands grasp at the orange pill bottle in the pouch of her hoodie. It's lighter than she would like, but getting a refill now would be too dangerous. It would raise too many suspicions. Up until now, she hadn't had to ration them, but now that she knows there are only a handful left, the itch is even greater. And her fingers move on their own as she undoes the safety cap and tips the bottle up, spilling two little blue pills into her hand. She doesn't pause a second before tossing them into her mouth and swallowing them down, her eyes closing as the itch and the anger and the pain already starting to melt from her body.

* * *

Hours after the team loaded back up on the bus, Callie finds herself staring at the blonde just two rows in front of her again… or still. She doesn't really know, but Callie knows it's been long enough. Plucking up her courage, she stands as the bus shifts beneath her and slowly closes the distance between her and her pitcher. Brown eyes trace the expanse of leg before her, the fair skin smooth and supple just waiting to be touched. But she doesn't, instead she pokes her head out from behind the blonde and finds Arizona staring off into space. She clears her throat, but still the newcomer doesn't response, the ear buds in her ears preventing any noise filtering in from the outside world.

So, with the nail of her thumb, Callie quickly trails the length of Arizona's exposed calf, making the blonde jump at the contact. Blue eyes snap back to reality as she sees the gorgeous Latina standing in the aisle, smiling and looking all kinds of sexy.

Arizona struggles to get up out of her prone position and pulls the ear buds from her ears. "He-hey, Cal." She stammers, a blush ripping across her cheeks for some reason.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you." Callie replies, her eyes scanning the rest of the cabin in front of her and catching steel blue eyes of her co-captain before Hahn quickly looks away. "Can I sit?" She asks, gesturing to the seat that had, up til a few seconds ago, been the pitchers bed.

"Yeah." Robbins says, a tight smile crossing her lips. And her heart starts to pound as soon as Callie takes the empty seat next to her. A silence falls between them, both looking at the woman next to them then quickly looking away when the other catches them.

Seeing that Arizona is fidgeting nervously with a bottle between her hands, Callie asks "What you drinking?"

"Oh, uh…" The blonde turns the bottle so her captain can read the label with big white letters.

"You have a drink named after you?" Callie plays, trying to lighten the tension between them.

"Yeah, you ever try it?" Arizona asks, and when Callie shakes her head 'no' the pitcher offers the Latina the bottle. Torres takes it between her tanned hands and unscrews the top, then takes a long pull out of it.

Smacking her lips, letting the taste fill her mouth, Callie states "You taste delicious." An evil smile erupts, perfectly white teeth shining as the Latina sees the brightest blush ever race across Arizona Robbins' cheeks. She knows it was a dirty move, but seeing the older woman squirm with embarrassment was just too good to pass up.

After giving the blonde a couple seconds to compose herself, Callie lowers her voice and turns her head to look at Arizona full on. The atmosphere shifts, and they both get pulled into each other. "So…" Callie drawls, and the pitcher knows exactly what she's asking.

"I don't want to make trouble." The blonde whispers, subconsciously glancing towards the front of the bus where her two nemeses are sitting, both apparently in their own world.

"What trouble?" The Latina asks, wanting so much to lean in and kiss Arizona once and for all right now. Screw the rest of the team, screw the less than optimal setting they are in. She just wants to kiss the girl.

"Callie…" Arizona sighs. "You know what trouble. If you… if I… if we…" The older woman struggles to find the right words because her mind and heart are fighting each other so fiercely about this entire issue.

"That's a lot of 'if's', Battleship." Callie plays, nervously dropping her gaze for fear that her pitcher is about to shut the door in her face. When Arizona doesn't reply, she chances another look up and sees that the blonde is thinking, thinking hard. Over thinking, and Callie doesn't like it.

"Arizona." Callie whispers, and blue eyes focus back on the Latina next to her. "It's no one's business. It's not like everyone is innocent in all this. Addison and Derek… that whole mess. Mark has a huge thing for Little Grey. Kepner and Avery."

"Teddy and Hunt." Arizona adds to the list, then back tracks a second. "Wait, Kepner and Avery? Really?"

Callie chuckles while nodding, then asks "Altman and Hunt?"

"She's is crazy about him." The blonde sighs, glancing out the window at the passing Missouri landscape. By the rate the team is moving, they should make Chicago by 10 pm which Arizona is grateful for. The hard uncomfortable bus seats aren't exactly working wonders on her back.

Callie chews on her bottom lip, fighting with herself on whether to push it or to just let it go. Maybe Arizona isn't worth the risk, maybe she's just another person in the long line of people who will eventually hurt the Latina. She's put her heart out there many times, more than you would think for someone her age, and every time it's been thrown back at her, stepped on and broken. But… what if Arizona ISN'T like those others. Everything Callie has learned the woman tells her that Arizona is different. Special. Amazing. The catcher is so inexplicably drawn to this woman that she can't see how she can just let her go.

"How about…" Callie starts, taking a deep breath to steady the butterflies flapping away in her stomach. Blue eyes look away from the large side windows and find those deep chocolate orbs again, emotion swirling like the Milky Way Galaxy within them. "How about you give me one chance. One kiss. One kiss, and then… you can decide whether this…" she gestures between the two of them "…is worth whatever trouble it might bring."

Arizona wants to say no, no kiss. Because a kiss would mean personal. And it's not personal. It's business. But she also wants to say yes. Because it would put an end to the torture that has been plaguing the blonde since that fateful night Callie uttered 'I don't want to kiss you'. Every night since then, those words have been replaying in the blondes head like some catchy song, looping over and over again. Driving her mad. This kiss could put her out of her misery, but since when has Arizona ever been that lucky?

Callie lets her think, lets her battler herself because she knows that whatever side is pulling for that kiss to happen is winning. Seconds pass, and then the Latina sees a calm fall upon the woman next to her. Her gaze drops to the plump lips of Callie Torres, then flick back up to meet brown eyes. Both Arizona's and Callie's heart start to pound as the newcomer leans in, inch by cautious inch. The faint vanilla coconut-y smell of the blondes shampoo hits Torres's nose, and it's like Arizona has flooded her body. Eyelids droop closed, and their lips are pulled closer and closer together.

When pink lips are an inch from hers, Callie whispers "No." Arizona halts, afraid that what she just heard was actually what the Latina said. Pulling back to look at her, the blonde's face is full of hurt. It's so absolutely adorable, so beautiful that a smile pulls at the catchers lips.

A tanned hand reaches up and tucks a stray strand of blonde hair behind Arizona's ear, then cups her fair cheek. "Not yet. Not here." She purrs, a finger trailing down the curve of the pitchers cheek. "I only get one chance, I'm going to make it count." Sending the blonde a sultry wink, mixed with that sexy smile Callie has perfected over the years, the Latina stands and leaves a breathless blonde to her own thoughts.

* * *

The team makes it to Chicago and everyone quickly sacks down for the night. The next day fourteen women suit up for yet another day of sun and softball. Nerves have dissipated slightly, the team getting more comfortable stepping out on the field as a single unit. Much to Callie's displeasure, Mark heeds Arizona's advice and keeps the Latina on the bench. Not that Callie isn't a team player, she is. Very much so. But she's not use to riding the pine. She itches to get back out in the dirt, to feel the sweat mat at her forehead from behind that catcher's mask. To take on a frisky runner who thinks she can steal a base from the skilled woman.

But after a very heated, yet very hushed discussion with her coach, she conceded to taking a breather. Her skills won't dull from just a couple days off so instead Callie enjoys the opportunity to watch one particular teammate of hers. Because Callie isn't playing, Arizona won't be pitching, Mark deciding instead to rotate through the other pitchers and catchers the team has. So instead of having to keep her focus on the ball and the runners, as she would have to do if she were catching, Callie gets to watch Arizona in full action at shortstop. It's amazing the agility the older woman has, being able to cover a very large amount of ground in the bat of an eye.

And the Latina's attention doesn't go unnoticed by Arizona. She can feel those dark eyes watching her as she directs the infield to the play. When she lays full out on the dirt, stopping a hard grounder and flicking it up to Addison on second for an out, blue eyes glance over to USA's dugout and finds a smiling brunette. Even on the field, she can't get her mind off of Callie. She can't keep picturing that kiss. The kiss she promised she would give the Latina. Arizona doesn't know when it will happen, or where. And it makes her hunger for it even greater. The mysteriousness about that kiss, it floating out there in the heavens just waiting to drop, keeps her enthralled. If Callie had just kiss Arizona in the bus right then, it'd be over. But it's not. So now Arizona can only wait.

The game against some Illinois college team progresses and USA doesn't have to put up much effort to lay them out. Not only do third and fourth strings get to play, but fifth as well. Addison, who hasn't pitched in years, ends up on the mound for the very last inning and earns the win while tiny April Kepner tries her hand at catching. But its good practice and everyone gets to stretch their wings a little bit more.

Once the last out is had, the two teams line up and exchanged high fives then start to pack up the gear. There is no real urgency among the women because they all know that once they leave the fields, its right back to the hotel. Arizona gets wrapped up in a discussion with Addison while Callie slings a heavy bag full of catching equipment over her shoulder and starts to head back to the bus. The sun is hot, and even though she hasn't played a single out a slight sheen of sweat has broken across the Latina's forehead. Maybe it's because she's just watched a certain blonde for nearly three hours, Arizona being able to play damn near any position masterfully.

At the bus, the catcher drops the bag to the ground for the coaches to load up, and turns back to the field only to run into Erica Hahn. She, too, is also carrying a heavy bag and nearly tips over from the collision. Callie instinctively reaches out and catches the falling blonde, Erica grabbing a tanned arm for support.

"Sorry, Erica. Didn't see you there." Callie apologizes, then quickly lets go of the blonde before Erica can get any funny ideas. Things are still very tense between them, and the younger woman doesn't know how to make things better. What do you say to your best friend after shooting her down while trying to make a pass at you?

Erica gives her co-captain a tight smile in dismissal, and just as Callie is walking away, Hahn mumbles "You would have if I was Robbins."

Callie stops midstride, and turns to face the woman. "What was that?" She snaps.

Not looking up from the bag Erica has decided needs to be emptied and repacked, she drawls "You heard me."

"No." Torres spits and steps forward a couple feet. "No I don't think I did. You want to try it again, Hahn?" But all she gets is silence from the blonde who is still focused on cramming her catching gear into a bag that doesn't seem big enough. "Look, I'm sorry I hurt your feelings Erica. I really am. Ok? I'm sorry. But this? You being pissed off at me and making everyone's life harder than it already is? Is not ok. I'm sorry that I don't want to sleep with you, but just let it go."

"You think I'm still upset about that?" Erica snaps, her steel blue eyes locking with angry brown ones. Standing up straight Erica is able to look the Latina squarely in the face, the two of them being within an inch in height. "It's not. It's about YOU being stupid and putting MY team in jeopardy."

Confusion quickly flashes across Callie's face. "What the hell are you-"

"You and Robbins? Breaking rule number one on this team?" Erica cuts her off. "This is about you putting this team's fate on the line for some lousy lay with NewGirl. You said yourself that… that teammates getting involved was a stupid idea. And yet, here you are."

Turning on her heel, Callie starts to walk away. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh please!" Erica sneers, her voice rising at the retreating catcher. "If you drooled over her anymore you would need someone with a bucket and mop following you around. It's not ok, Callie. Especially now that you two are a battery. You know that. And I'll be damned if I let you risk MY teams outlook at the Games just for some cheap roll in the hay."

Anger flares within the fiery Latina, and again Torres spins around and closes the distance between her and her ex-friend. "Leave her out of this, Hahn. You're pissed off at me, not Arizona. She's just collateral. Whatever you think is going on between Robbins and me, whatever Shepard told you happened between the two of us is a lie. So if you want to be pissed off at me? Fine, I can take it. But leave Robbins alone, alright? She's had enough crap to put with from you, Shepard… hell, the entire team."

Erica is about to snap back at the woman in front of her when out of nowhere the rest of their team arrives, everyone hauling a bag and chatting animatedly. The two co-captains share a glare, both knowing that this discussion isn't over. But it's not for the rest of the teams ears so they silently agree to a temporary stay. Steel blue eyes glance over Callie's shoulder and finds another set of blue eyes looking back at her. A look of confusion, apprehension and anxiety tracing Arizona's face as she takes in the two very tense captains. She knows something happened between them, but doesn't dare ask.

* * *

"Don't you ever stop?" April squeaks when she walks out of the bathroom and sees her roommate hunched over an open text book and notebook full of neat hand writing. At every stop, Coach Webber makes the girls switch up roommates, something about team bonding, and this time Arizona drew April Kepner.

Not even glancing up from her place on the page, Arizona murmurs "Can never know too much." But in fact, she hasn't studied hardly at all since joining Team USA. Yeah, she stares at an open book, her eyes move across the page, but none of the information seeps into her brain. She can spend hours rereading the same paragraph but every time she gets two or three sentences, her mind wanders. Only now it wanders to something a lot more pleasant… it wanders to a certain Latina sleeping just a few rooms down the hall.

"Is it true?" The redhead asks, nervously looking at the blonde from the reflection in the mirror over their sink.

"What true?" The pitcher questions, losing her place on the page and slamming the book shut in frustration.

"That you… you're uhh… gay?" The younger woman shifts her gaze from her roommate and pretends to be busy folding, unfolding and then refolding the same wash rag in front of her.

"Since 1983." The blonde breathes out and collapses back onto her bed. April peeks over her shoulder, giving Arizona a confused look. "Yeah, I'm gay Kepner." The older woman states and waits for some sort of reaction. But the redhead just shrugs and it seems that that is the end of it.

The buzzing of a phone alerts April she has a new text, while Arizona glances at hers and sees she has nothing. The redhead bounds off her bed and starts to dig excitedly through her bag. "Hey, a bunch of us are going down to the pool. You coming?" She asks while grabbing her two piece and darting to the bathroom.

"Na…" The blonde answers dejectedly. "I'll just… I need to study." Arizona adds. The newcomer could actually use a little relaxation right now, maybe some time in the hot tub to work out a few kinks in her back. But she figures that if she was wanted, she would have been invited. And since her phone remains empty, she figures she's not wanted down there. And the last thing Arizona wants to do is rock the boat even more. It's been hell since Coach Sloan announced that Arizona was Callie's new partner, and Robbins has no intentions of giving either Amelia or Erica more opportunities to get pissed off at her. Normally the blonde wouldn't give two cents what others thought of her, but again, this is a team. They have to function as a team. Which means sometimes a player has to take a hit just to keep everyone afloat. And Arizona is taking that hit right now.

* * *

Brown eyes flash to the pool entrance as she hears the card access beep. Callie silently hopes it's a certain blonde that comes striding through, and can't hide her displeasure when it's April Kepner instead. The laughing and yelling and talking bouncing off the pool area's walls fill her ears as her teammates splash around and roughhouse, but Callie can't help but feel there is a certain void missing in the fun. Of course Hahn hasn't come down after their little tiff, but no one seems to notice her absence, nor mind it for that matter. Even Miranda Bailey, usually one of the most reserved faces on their team, is letting loose and relaxing tonight.

"Hey… you alright?" Addison asks from beside the solemn catcher, pulling Callie's eyes away from the empty doorway.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm find Addy." Callie says, forcing a smile on her face.

"April!" Teddy shouts from the other side of the pool. "Where's Robbins? You didn't leave her alone, did you?" The first baseman asks, and the Latina's gaze locks onto the newest arrival to the party.

"I tried. She said she needed to study." The skittish player replies before Little Grey pulls her into the pool head first. A pout forms across plump lips as she recognizes the blondes universal brush off. It's always 'I need to study' when Arizona backs out of something. That was her excuse when Callie asked the pitcher out that Sunday where everything kinda blew up in her face.

A couple minutes later Teddy hauls herself out of the pool and walks over to the wall phone. After asking the blonde's roommate what their room number is, Altman punches in the number and starts to harp on someone on the other end. Callie can't make out her exact words, but from the few snippets she can hear over the roar of the pool and her hyped up teammates, she figures that Teddy won some sort of battle.

Some of the women abandon the pool in favor for the hot tub, and within fifteen minutes the tiny Jacuzzi is packed with nearly ten women. Then all eyes dart to the door when another beeping signals the entrance of another person.

Arizona walks into the pool area to the chorus of "Robbins!" A dimpled smile breaks out, the anxiety of interrupting some sort of secret party quickly fading as her teammates make room for her in the hot tub.

Brown eyes rake up and down the blonde, her tongue sneaking out to wet chlorine stained lips. It's not right how good a simple two piece bikini looks on Arizona. Fire engine red material covers all the good parts, but leaves a vast expanse of amazingly soft and toned flesh for all to see. Robbins chances a glance at the Latina on the far side of the tub, and gives her a smile before lowering her body into the warm waters.

"So what was it this time?" Yang asks, scooting a bit closer to Meredith Grey to give Arizona some more room. Blue eyes furrow in confusion and Cristina explains "Studying?"

"Oh. The uhh… Necrotizing enterocolitis in infants." Arizona answers, resulting in the ten faces around her drawing a blank. "Mostly affecting premature infants, necrotizing enterocolitis is the most common gastrointestinal emergency seen in the NICU. 'Necrotizing' meaning death of tissue. 'Entero' meaning small intestine. 'Colo' meaning large intestine. 'Itis' meaning inflammation. So… basically it's defined as inflammation in the intestines that can be life threatening if not treated promptly. It can affect only the intestinal lining or its entire thickness, but regardless, the damage may cause bacteria to leak out of the intestine and into the abdomen, causing an infection which can spread very quickly."

When Arizona finally realizes that she has been rambling, a habit that she has when she is either nervous or feeling crowded, like she is right now while sharing a hot tub for five with ten other woman, she looks up and finds all of her teammates staring back at her. Normally when she nerds out like that, she is surrounded by fellow doctors, so it's not that big of a deal when she goes off on some Peds tangent. But here, in the company of her teammates, none of which are doctors that she knows of, Arizona quickly realizes that she gave a bit too much information.

But when Arizona finally reaches the face of Callie, the fear of alienating herself even more quickly dissipates because the smile her catcher is sending her is breathtaking. The blonde finds herself smiling in return and the words start falling out again. "NEC affects only 1 in two to four thousand births or between one and five percent of NICU admissions. Symptoms include bloating or swelling in the belly. Poor tolerance of feeding. Decreased bowel sounds. Blood in the stoo-"

"OK." Yang barks, cutting off the blonde's speech she would generally give her attending during rounds, much to everyone's relief. "Enough class, I'm starved. Mer, food." She states, turning to her best friend beside her.

"Sure." Grey answers, and they both exit the hot tub.

"Can I come?" Meredith's little sister asks. "There's a sandwich place just down the block." Little Grey states, and at the mention of that, everyone else in the tub stands. Within a minute, the Jacuzzi goes from overflowing to barely covering Arizona's chest.

"Hey Robbins, Torres, you two coming?" Teddy calls as she towels herself off.

"No, I don't like sandwiches." Arizona answers, giving her friend a smile before turning her gaze back to the lone teammate sharing the same waters with her.

"Yeah, sandwiches aren't really my thing, Teds. But thanks." Callie adds, and with that Teddy waves them goodbye before exiting the pool area and catching up with the rest of the team.

"So…" Callie purrs, a smirk crossing her lips as she watches the blonde across from her fidget nervously. The Latina knows that Arizona has been waiting on baited breath for that kiss. Her kiss. The kiss Arizona promised before making up her mind about Callie, about any sort of… whatever might happen between them. It may be a little mean to leave the beautiful woman hanging like that, but a first kiss is something special, something to be remembered, not something to be pushed into. Not in the back of a smelly bus, not with a dozen other people just feet away from you. No… the Latina wants to make sure Arizona Robbins the first time her lips touch Calliope Torres', even if it's the last time.

"So." Arizona parrots, blue eyes flicking up off the water below her to meet the deep brown ones staring at her from across the tub. "I uhh… You're not mad that I told Mark to bench you today, are you?" The blonde asks, trying to break the heated silence between them. "I mean, I'm sure you would have been fine to play but-"

"I'm not mad." Callie cuts the cute surgeon off before Arizona starts rambling on about the dangers of concussions or heat stroke or… red clay dirt. As much as the Latina loves to hear the blonde spit facts out like that, now is not the time. "I understand. You were worried about me." The catcher states with a dismissing shrug of her shoulders.

"Mmm." Arizona hums, pursing her lips. "Don't flatter yourself Torres. Any decent medical practitioner would have done the same thing."

"Is that right?" Callie purrs, her tongue running across her perfectly white teeth as she plays with the woman across from her. "So… I'm not special?"

"Sorry to hurt your feelings, Calliope." Arizona sings, finding this little banter between the two of them so much easier than the heaviness of what actually hovers over them. A giggle falls from pink lips when Callie puts on a face of mock hurt. Standing from the warm waters, giving dark eyes a second opportunity to cruise Arizona's slim body, the pitcher walks out of the tub and steps into the pool.

With a smirk on her face, Callie follows, the temperature difference between the two waters making the Latina's breath catch in her throat. A blonde head pops up from under the water, blue eyes opening and finding Callie's. Arizona slowly backs up from the only other person in the room, all the while keeping her gaze locked with the catcher. The Latina stalks Arizona like a cat, slowly moving forward and trapping the blonde a the corner of the pool. Water reaches up to just above their breasts, providing a feeling of weightlessness.

Arizona's breathing starts to increase, her heart rate doubling each time Callie takes a step closer to her. Five feet, two feet, one foot. Both women's bodies are alive with anticipation and Callie zeros in on pink lips in front of her. She's going to do it, she's going to make that move. Put it all out there, and then let Arizona decide. A gasp slips from Arizona's mouth when the Latina's head tips forward fractionally.

And just as Arizona prepares to taste heaven, the door to the pool area clicks open, the air filling with the telltale squeal of excited kids.

"Damn it." Callie growls, taking a big step back and putting a good five feet between them. To say she's pissed off is an understatement. Two times. Two times she had the perfect opening to make her move, and yet both times they have been interrupted. What are the odds?

It takes a second for Arizona to realize what happened, why she doesn't feel the softness of Callie's lips against hers. But when her eyes open again, she see's two kids jump right into the pool, their parents warning them about something the blonde doesn't hear. All she sees is the Latina, now on the other side of the pool. Brown eyes boring into hers, Callie's frustration just pouring out of them.

And for some reason that little voice in her head is screaming at Arizona to get out. Get out before she's in any deeper. Twice the universe has conspired to keep them apart, what more proof does the blonde need to realize that this… that Callie… isn't a good idea. She's Arizona's captain. Her catcher. To mess with that relationship, that balance, would mean risking it all.

So Arizona takes a deep breath and drops Callie's gaze. Without so much as a smile, the blonde climbs out of the pool, grabs her towel and exits the room. Torres watches her leave, and not because of the amazing view it provides her. No, Callie saw something in those eyes, almost as if Arizona had decided something. The walls that Callie has slowly chipped at are being rebuilt with each foot the surgeon puts between them.

Acting on instinct, Callie reaches up and lifts her body cleanly from the pool, not wasting time to find a ladder. She has her towel in a second, and leaves the oblivious family the next. The catcher looks up and down the hallway in both directions, trying to find which way Arizona retreated. Brown eyes find a trail of wet foot prints, and that's all she needs. Callie takes off at a run, or as much of a run you can have while bare foot in a hotel hallway. She reaches the end and rams her body into the door for the staircase. More puddles point the way and Torres starts to take the steps two at a time.

Arizona hears someone climbing the stairs after her. She's not in a huge rush, she just needed to get away from Callie. But this person behind her is, feet slapping at the concrete steps hard as this mystery person races upwards. This unknown person catches up with her just as Arizona reaches the platform for her level, and turns to find a winded Latina scaling the last step.

"Calliope-" Arizona breathes out, but she doesn't get the opportunity to finish. Callie's lips find hers and everything fades away. Strong hands cup fair cheeks, the Latina's body coming flush with Arizona's and pushing her back until the support of the wall is behind her. The kiss is soft and firm at the same time, Callie showing her passion for this woman and yet giving her the respect she deserves. Only when Arizona parts her lips slightly does the Latina ask for access to her mouth.

Hands find their way into wet, raven hair as Callie's move down to a trim, red bikini covered waist. A moan, from either Callie or Arizona, they don't really know nor care, echoes off the concrete stairwell as their kiss continues. Arizona pushes her way into the Latina's mouth and Callie grips at the blondes' waist. Stars explode behind both sets of closed eyelids, and the need for air is quickly making them dizzy. But they push on, Arizona never wanting the feeling of this woman to end. And Callie… she never knew a woman could feel this good, taste this sweet.

Arizona's arms snake around the Latina's neck, trying to find enough leverage to bring herself up to the same height as Callie. Tanned hands grip at the slick flesh of Arizona's thighs, and Callie bends her knees just for a second before hoisting the blonde up and supporting her weight. The pitcher naturally wraps her legs around Callie's waist as the catcher pushes her back against the wall for support. All the while their lips and their tongues move in time with each others. Exploring every nook, every corner of one another mouths.

But too soon the need for air overwhelms them and their lips part. Both women suck in precious oxygen, their chests heaving against one another's as their bodies recover. Callie nuzzles her nose against Arizona's, plump lips teasing pink.

Their gaze's meet, and Callie's heart does somersaults. "Callie…" Arizona whispers, her breath ragged and voice thick with desire.

"Yeah?" The Latina purrs, kissing the corner of her pitcher's mouth.

"Can you put me down now?" The blonde asks, her grip in raven locks loosening.

"Oh… uh, yeah." Torres answers, a blush breaking across her face. Lifting a woman and pinning her against the wall is not something Callie Torres would consider first date material, let alone first kiss material. But it felt right, and she went with it.

Back on her feet, Arizona clears her throat and meets the dark eyes staring down at hers. She doesn't know what to say. What do you say to a woman who just rocked your world with a simple kiss? Thanks? That was nice? Call me? None of that fits, and it's becoming increasingly clear to the blonde what her decision should be. She should stop this, stop them from becoming 'them'. It's too hard, too messy. It could ruin everything. Run. Run away, and fast.

Sensing that the blonde is raging an internal battle again, Callie traces a finger down the curve of Arizona's cheek. "I just wanted to get that in before you made up your mind." She whispers, blue eyes locked onto hers. Leaning in so her lips ghost over the flesh of the pitchers ear, she adds "Good night, Battleship. I'll be dreaming of you." With a soft kiss to her cheek, Callie leaves the frozen blonde to ponder her next move.

* * *

AN3: Alright folks, was that enough angst for you? A lot is still unresolved. Arizona and Amelia. Callie and Erica. Erica and Amelia. Callie and Arizona. That's one vicious circle, any thoughts on how it's all going to play out? Let me know ;-)


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: Hey ya'll! Next chapter is up! For all of you who are feeling a bit under the weather, I hope this makes you feel just a bit better. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 16

"You coming down for breakfast?" April asks her roommate as the redhead slips on a pair of sandals and pulls her hair back into a loose ponytail.

"Umm, no I'm gonna grab a shower." Arizona replies, curling up in the sheets of her double bed. Exhaustion seeps into her body and her mind begs for sleep. Normally one sleeps during the long hours of the night, but not Arizona. No… sleep evaded her because her mind was on fire. Her body was on fire. Her heart was racing. That kiss… that kiss last night has turned everything the blonde thought was so clear into mud. Before that kiss, Arizona knew what the right thing to do was. Before that kiss, Arizona could have said no, could have stopped it. Could have kept it all business. But then that kiss happened, and now everything looks so much more complicated.

"Ok, see ya." Kepner sings, then leaves for the door. In the threshold the redhead starts to pat at the pockets of her sweats. "Damn, where's my key…" A quick sweep of the room and she doesn't see it, so instead she flips the security bar so the door remains open, and leaves. It's a usual practice among the team, that way the ladies can come and go amongst the rooms as they like.

Arizona pulls a pillow over her head and tries to urge herself into sleep, but after five minutes she gives up. It's not the first time the surgeon would be going more than 24 hours without sleep so she resigns to the idea of actually getting up and getting ready for another long day of sun and softball.

Rolling out of bed, the blonde starts to sort through the mass of clothes stuffed into her duffle bag. Luckily she doesn't have to worry about making sure her uniforms are clean, but that does little for the rest of her clothes which all seem to be dirty.

Just as Arizona is grabbing a towel and heading to the bathroom, a soft knocking on the door pulls her attention. "It's open!" She calls, and the door cracks open. In the reflection of the mirror, blue eyes look up and the blonde's breathing stops.

"Morning." Callie purrs, shutting the door behind her, making sure the security bar isn't flipped out to ensure their privacy. The Latina doesn't move any further, she doesn't want to push the blonde too much. Instead, she just leans back against the closed door. If Arizona wants her, the pitcher will have to cross the room herself. "How'd you sleep?" She asks, her eyes trailing up and down Arizona's body, a tank top and running shorting being the blonde's choice of pajamas.

Slowly turning and mirroring Callie's position against the countertop, Arizona replies "Not so good. …Had a lot on my mind."

"I bet." The catcher states, a small smirk upturning her lips just a fraction of an inch. Their shared kiss has been playing in Callie's head since the second she left last night, and now all she can think about is making a part two. As well as a part three, four and five.

"So…" The Latina drawls, the awkward silence lasting too long for her liking. "Have you-" A knocking on Arizona's hotel room door interrupts her. Callie takes a couple more steps into the room while Arizona walks past her and opens the door. Both women pretend not to feel the electricity shoot through their bodies as the blonde barely grazes tanned flesh, and brown eyes turn up to the heavens as the captain asks God why he is always sending something to interrupt them.

Arizona opens the door, revealing a groggy looking Teddy Altman. "Morning Teds." The blonde says, pulling on a dimpled smile while Callie mills about just a couple feet away from her. "What's up?"

The still half asleep and very rough first baseman rubs at her eyes then holds out a worn paperback book. "Here…" She murmurs. "Finished it last night. Thanks." Arizona takes the book she loaned to her friend and blindly tosses it behind her. Callie smirks when the object lands within six inches of the blonde's bag, and continues to flip through the open notebook filled with the neat, tight handwriting of Arizona Robbins. "You going down for breakfast? Little Grey says they have a waffle maker." The taller blonde adds. When a group of fourteen women are stuck on a bus and jumping from hotel to hotel, the smallest luxury can bring a smile to everyone's face.

"Uh, no. Not yet. Thanks though." Arizona answers. Altman just shrugs, not really caring either way. With a small wave to the blonde, and then a nod to her captain lurking in the background, Teddy continues on down the hallway in search of a carbohydrate rich breakfast of fresh waffles.

Shutting the door again, blue eyes close as a deep breath fills Arizona's lungs. If she concentrates Arizona can smell the faintest hint of Callie in the air, she can remember the taste of plump lips and the feel of strong hands on her, that strong body supporting her. The Latina watches and waits while Arizona steadies herself, and brown eyes lock on blue when the blonde slowly turns back around and leans against the door.

"Studying some more, I see." Callie drawls, flipping a page of Arizona's notebook.

"Um, kinda. I tried but… couldn't really focus." The blonde mumbles, a blush ripping across her cheeks as the memory of the reason why she couldn't focus fills her mind. It so happens to involve the same woman now sitting on her bed, and the woman pushing Arizona up against a very cold concrete wall. But somehow that chill didn't concern her at the time, only adding to the wide range of feelings coursing through Arizona's body at that exact moment.

Wanting to play with the surgeon just a little bit, seeing as that seems to be the only way Callie can get Arizona to lighten up, the Latina finds the first seemingly important medical term she can find. "Trach… Tracheoesophageal fistula."

And because of years and years of studying, researching and performing rounds, Arizona's mind and mouth act on instinct. "Known as TEF. Occurs during the fourth to eight week of fetal development if the lining between the esophagus and the trachea fails to form, causing the two to fuse into one." Callie watches her pitcher spit out medical facts like they were nothing, and sits in awe at the sheer amount of information Arizona has crammed into her brain. "Symptoms of a TEF usually present shortly after birth. Signs include coughing or choking while feeding. Vomiting. Frothy white bubbles around the mouth. Difficulty breathing. Blue color to the skin, especially while feeding. And a round and full abdomen." Blue eyes finally focus again and land upon the woman sitting on her bed, smiling at her.

"Studying doesn't seem to be a problem." The Latina plays, and she gets rewarded with a small smile. Closing the notebook and standing, Callie takes a couple steps toward Arizona still at the door. "So… Doctor Robbins…" She purrs, and Arizona swears the temperature in the hotel room rises ten degrees as those brown eyes sweep down the blonde's body. "Am I cleared to play today?" Callie asks and Arizona immediately relaxes. She was sure Callie was about to push the issue of 'them'… whatever 'them' means. But after last night, after that kiss, Arizona is sure that whatever 'them' would mean would be something more than just… a fling. At least, that's what Arizona's heart hopes. Her head is still yelling at her to run.

"I can forgive one day." Callie states, taking a step forward and smiling. "But sitting on the bench two days in a row? That's crossing a big line, Doctor Robbins."

A giggle falls from Arizona's lips, the last of her anxiety slipping from her body. "How's your head? Vision? Any blurriness? Dizziness? Headaches?"

"Small headache every now and then." Callie answers truthfully.

"Good." The blonde replies with a nod. "I'll let Mark know that I've cleared you. But try not to play bulldozer for a couple more day, huh?" Arizona plays, and watches in awe as Callie's head tips back and she lets out a deep, full bodied laugh.

"What an affectionate name." The catcher states, her megawatt smile nearly blinding Arizona. "Kinda like it. Callie "The Bulldozer" Torres. It's got a certain ring to it."

"Better than Arizona "In The Zone" Robbins." Arizona adds and Callie realizes that was the first piece of the blonde's past that she readily revealed.

"I like Battleship better." Callie replies, taking another couple steps forward until she is only a few feet in front of her teammate. "Makes you sound hardcore."

"I AM hardcore, Calliope." The blonde rebuttals, making Callie smirk at the challenge.

Closing the small distance left, the Latina lowers her voice to just a husk and says "I don't doubt that." Arizona's heart rate doubles, and brown eyes become hooded as the tension between them multiplies exponentially. It would be so easy to lean in those few inches, take those pink lips with hers again. Taste the sweetness of Arizona's tongue, feel the heat of her body. But that's not how Callie wants it to happen. She doesn't want to push the pitcher, force Arizona into anything.

So, with a deep inhale, letting the lingering vanilla coconut-y smell of the blonde's shampoo fill her lungs, Callie gives the older woman a breathtaking smile and reaches for the door. Arizona takes a step to the side, allowing the door to crack open. Her heart is pounding and her throat has suddenly gone dry. And the idea of Callie walking out of the room at this very second makes the pitcher upset, for some reason unbeknownst to her.

As Callie opens the door, a fair hand pushes it back closed and turns the Latina. The next second pink lips are on the catcher's. Arizona doesn't remember telling herself to kiss Callie, but somehow she is. Her lips are moving over the other woman's as Arizona pushes Callie against the closed door. The pitcher's hands come up to cup tanned cheeks, one snaking around and finding hold at the back of Torres's neck, pulling her in harder. Callie's hands remain planted on a trim waist. She doesn't want to spook the blonde, or push her and break whatever kind of spell they are under right now. Their kiss isn't frantic like last night where Callie was trying to sway Arizona in her decision. No, this kiss is soft and exploratory. Tender. Before, fireworks exploded behind both sets of closed eyes, but now… it's a rolling wild fire.

Callie's grip on Arizona's waist tightens, pulling the smaller woman in closer to her, wanting to feel the heat of the blonde's body against hers. The pitchers tongue slips out between her lips and plays across a plump bottom lip of the Latina's, seeking a deeper connection. Callie willingly lets her in, a moan coming from deep in her chest.

It's enough to catch Arizona's attention and make her break the kiss. Pulling back, blue eyes open slowly and she sees the most gorgeous woman she's ever seen. …And Arizona has seen a lot of women. Brown eyes are hooded, the Latina's heart and body alive with electricity.

Taking a small step back, Callie's hands leaving her hips, Arizona runs a shaky hand through her blonde hair. "I uhh… I don't… sorry. I just-"

"Don't worry about it." The catcher whispers, cutting the blonde off before she can completely lose control of her words. "I'm not complaining." The seductive smile Callie sends Arizona makes the pitcher blush slightly, those butterflies in her stomach fluttering away.

Clearing her throat, breaking both of them out of the little world they were lost in while staring into each other's eyes, Callie straightens up and says "Remember, downstairs dressed and ready in your red and whites in two hours."

"Right." Arizona breaths out, silently thanking the Latina for clearing the heavy atmosphere around them. Callie sends her pitcher a smile then opens the hotel room door for a second time. This time she actually makes it across the threshold without getting stopped. Arizona follows her, leaning against the open door as Callie looks up and down the deserted hallway.

When brown eyes float back to blue, the two women share a small smile. Arizona can feel the question lurking on her catchers tongue, and whispers "I don't know."

Taking a step closer to the blonde, Arizona half hidden by the door partially shut, Callie replies "Take your time. I'm not going anywhere." With one more check that the coast is clear, she leans in and places the softest of kisses against Arizona's lips. It's a kiss that couples share after being together years and years. It's over just as soon as it happened, and by the time blue eyes open again, Callie is already backing up down the hall. "See ya later, Battleship." Callie says, sending the woman a smoky wink before turning her back and heading downstairs for breakfast.

Arizona closes the door and leans back against it. A million and one thoughts are racing across her mind and she can't even begin to imagine how she's going to sort it all out. As if all thoughts suddenly become weighted, her shoulders slump and her knees buckle. Smoothly sliding down the door, the blonde sits on the floor and lets her head hang in her hands.

A strangled laugh come from her mouth, and the woman just smiles at her predicament. She knows the correct answer, both of them know what the right thing to do is. But… sometimes the right thing feels so much like the wrong thing. Looking around the empty room, Arizona searches for something to sway her. Make it easier for her. But she comes up with nothing.

Tipping her head back until it hits the door behind her, Arizona Robbins stares up towards the heavens in hope of finding some help from a God she doesn't know if she believes in anymore. With a strangled voice, the blonde moans "I am so screwed."

* * *

Mark Sloan leans back on his heels, his arms crossed smugly across his chest, as he watches his star pair warm up. The man would never break up a team like Amelia and Callie just because. They have been working together for years, and they are a solid pair. Batters quake in their cleats when they step up in the batter's box, facing an ace pitcher in front of them, and sensing the powerful and skilled catcher behind them. But this pair, the one he is literally drooling over, is in a whole other league.

Sweat trickles down Callie Torres's back, the weight of her catchers gear intensifying the heat settled over the ball diamond. The smack of Arizona's pitch hitting her glove, the slight tingle erupting over her hand after each thrown ball, makes her smile. She's back in action and she can't wait to step back out on the dirt. It's only been a handful number of days since she's played, but it's been too long.

"How you feeling, Blondie?" Coach Sloan asks after Arizona sends a beautiful drop ball right into the catcher's mitt.

"Great, Coach." Arizona replies, catching the toss back from Callie and setting up for another blazing pitch.

"Gotta tell ya, Robbins. That knuckle ball of yours has improved three fold." The coach says after watching the last pitch bob and weave all over the place. The thought of another country's batter trying to hit that thing makes Mark smile.

Brown eyes lock with blue as the two exchanges a smile. Arizona's knuckle ball is what brought the two together… kinda. It seems like so long ago when the captain offered to help the pitcher get a little off the clock practice in, which lead to Callie inviting the blonde out on the town. Of course, the ramifications of that night weren't exactly what either woman would have liked, but they seem to be on the right track now.

"What can I say? I have a great coach." Arizona replies, her gaze still locked on the smiling Latina behind the plate. Sloan is oblivious to the fact that the blonde isn't, in fact, talking about him. But he doesn't care, and takes the compliment in stride.

One last pitch and Mark waves Callie towards him and the pitcher. Pulling off her mask, a bead of sweat makes a track down the Latina's face and it catches Arizona's attention. A smile itches at both sets of lips as both replay bits and pieces of last night and this morning. From twenty feet away, steel blue eyes witness the less than conspicuous eye sexing the two women are doing. At least… she sees it. Erica is sure the rest of her team is blind if they can't see how Arizona Robbins and Callie Torres are basically stripping each other naked and getting it on right here on the field.

Callie told her that whatever she thought was going on between the Latina and the blonde was a lie. But it's apparent that Callie is the one who is lying now. Jealousy simmers right below the Hahn's surface, as well as a hint of fear that her team's chances are being cut each time Arizona turns her big doe eyes to those of Erica's co-captain.

Erica's train of thought/hatred is broken when a player throws her glove down and slumps onto the ground against the chain link fence. Looking down, the blonde see's a very haggard looking Amelia Shepard. "What's wrong with you?" She asks, taking in the paleness of the brunette's skin and the sheen of sweat across Amelia's forehead when she hasn't hardly moved at all.

"Nothing." The pitcher snarls, pulling her shades down over her eyes to try and stem the pounding and pulsing happening in her mind. "Can't you all just mind your own damned business?" She snaps. If it's not Torres or Hahn on her back, it's Charlotte King, Lexie Grey and April Kepner. All of her teammates keep asking her what is wrong, and its grating on the veteran pitcher's last nerve.

"Then get your scrawny ass up, we need to warm up." Erica says, then snatches the large bag containing her catching gear. A grumbling comes from her pitcher, and words of a similar kind fills the catcher's head as the new team suits up and hits the field.

* * *

"Ow! Damn it." Addison hisses when the sting of an alcohol wipe hits her raw leg.

"Suck it up, Red." Arizona responds, glancing up briefly from her work to give the redhead a wink to let her know she's playing. Looking back down at Addison Montgomery's long, lean leg, gloved hands move skillfully over the raspberry that takes up a large section of flesh. "Didn't anyone ever teach you how to slide correctly?" The blonde jests, tossing a blood stained section of gauze into a plastic bag and then grabbing a new one from the training bag on the bench next to them.

Team USA is back on the bus and continuing their trek across America. The women added another tick in the win column earlier today, and it was one of the most exciting games yet. Everyone played hard, and the college team didn't seem to be intimidated in the least. They pushed Team USA to their limits, and everyone is still buzzing from that kind of competition.

Arizona and Callie got their time on the field, and the two didn't let the coaches down. That heat that was there before continued on into today. Pitch after pitch, batter after batter, and it was like the pitcher and catcher were one. Callie directed her team masterfully, and Arizona handled the other team like they were puppies. It took an added ounce of concentration to ensure neither of them let their eyes linger on each other too long, or to get swept up in the emotions of the game and let a certain cat out of a certain bag. But when the game drew to a close, Arizona and Callie both felt that their pairing wasn't just happenstance.

"I _did _slide correctly. I was safe, wasn't I?" The second base man states, the leg draped across Arizona's lap flexing again as the surgeon continues to scrub it clean. Addison watches the blonde work on her, a look of concentration etched on her face. Glancing to the back of the bus, Addison sitting about midway in the large cabin, she finds dark eyes locked on her before quickly ducking when getting caught. A smile plays at the redheads lips, very aware that her captain wasn't staring at her, but at the blonde sitting in the seat next to her and playing doctor right now.

"So…" She drawls, catching the attention of crystal blue eyes. "Anything you wanna tell me?" Addison asks. Arizona's brow furrows in confusion as she grabs another gauze pad and an ace bandage to wrap the woman's leg. "You know… in the circle of no judgment." Taking a look at their surroundings, she adds "Metaphorically, of course."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Robbins answers with a roll of her eyes, then starts wrapping the bandage around the freshly cleaned raspberry. Gently extricating herself from under the bare leg across her lap, the blonde stands in the aisle and chances a glance towards the back, meeting chocolate eyes for a fraction of a second while pulling off her gloves with a snap. The next second, Arizona's attention is back on Addison, who has a smile on her face like she's a cat who just at the canary.

"Of course not." Montgomery sighs, even though her mind is quickly forming its own conclusion. After all, no one has ever claimed that Addison Forbes Montgomery is a slow one. "Thanks for patching me up." She adds, looking over the surgeons' handy work.

"Don't mention it. Keep it covered while you can, but let it breathe when you sleep." The surgeon replies, packing and zipping up the borrowed training bag. "Why didn't you have Karev or Avery do it? Not that I mind, just… isn't that what they are here for?"

"Who? Tweedledum and Tweedledumber?" Addison asks. "No, they are here to get laid. That's the only reason they took this job." Pink lips purse as Arizona thinks that Jackson is doing a mighty fine job then based off of Callie's statement from a couple days ago.

"Guess they weren't informed of rule number one before signing on then." The blonde muses, her own thoughts drifting to the conflict that is wrecking havoc on her mind, body and soul right now.

Sensing her newest friend's dilemma, but not wanting to put words to it, Addison gives Robbins a small smile and replies "There are ways around everything, Arizona." Blue eyes lock with green, and in that moment Arizona knows that Addison Montgomery already knows.

Her head dips and her hands rub at her face roughly. "I… I don't know, Addison. I don't know if it's worth it. It could get messy. So messy."

The hurt in the blonde's voice makes Addison's heart ache. She remembers what it was like, the beginning instances of a love that could rock your world. She and Derrick use to have it, have that spark. Now she's on the reverse side, trying to get that spark to die out finally, not trying to breathe life into it. Her gaze flicks to that of her captain in the back, Callie mindlessly flipping through some magazine while glancing up at Arizona every few seconds.

A smirk plays across the redheads lips, the idea of Arizona and Callie actually being together bringing a sort of warm feeling to her heart. "She's tough." Addison states, loud enough for only Arizona to hear. When blue eyes find hers again, she continues "She tries to hide it. She's difficult. But if you make an effort, she's worth it. She's worth the effort."

* * *

A bump in the road causes Callie's head to tip forward, the sudden feeling of falling pushing the Latina back into consciousness. A groan falls from plump lips when Torres tries to stretch out her neck, but sleeping in the awkward position she was for an untold amount of time doesn't help any.

Darkness fills the rest of the bus, the sounds of nineteen other people sleeping filling the air. Legs and arms and heads poke out from the edges of benches, stick up into the air or are propped up against the windows as everyone finds their own sleeping position. Checking the time on her phone, Callie sees it's the middle of the night, one of the few nights Team USA will be spending on the bus.

The only light source, besides the glow of the dashboard up at the front of the bus, is the single reading bulb illuminating the seat bench Arizona Robbins inhabits. The brightness burns at Callie's eyes causing her to squint. No one else in the bus seems to be stirring, and Callie can't imagine that Arizona can still be awake. Especially after the blonde told her that the pitcher didn't get much sleep the night before. What with their real first kiss still fresh on her lips.

Standing on very shaky legs, Callie shuffles up the narrow aisle to Arizona's area. Pale legs stick out from the bench, Arizona laying full out, her head resting on a pillow propped up against the side of the bus. A smile forms on the catchers lips when she see's Arizona's eyes closed, her face fully relaxed. Lying across her chest is the same notebook Callie was reading just this morning, and Torres is sure that Arizona must have drifted off while studying. The look of innocence that encompasses Arizona right now is something Callie has never seen, never witnessed before. Every other time Callie has seen the blonde, Robbins face was etched with some sort of worry, or fear. Even in the most happy of times, even after that kiss last night, even after that kiss this morning… Arizona never looked so at peace as she does right now.

Another bump in the road nearly sends Callie toppling down on top of the smaller woman, but a hand on the back of the chair in front of her saves the Latina from getting caught staring at the blonde. Arizona shifts in her sleep, the bump interrupting some form of dream, but she is quickly pulled back into the darkness, turning further into the seat.

Callie smiles again when the faintest of mumblings is heard over the roar of the road, and the Latina would like to think that whatever picture is playing out behind those cerulean blues is a happy picture. Carefully leaning in, the catcher slowly extricates the surgeon's notebook and places it in the seat pocket in front of her. Then she repositions the light blanket that is covering more of the floor than it is of Arizona, and loosely tucks it around the woman's sleeping form.

With one last gaze of pure perfection, Callie whispers "Sleep well, Battleship." And with the flick of a single finger, she sends the bus into complete darkness.

* * *

A clenched fist knocks on a hotel room door, and it is soon opened, the face of Little Grey appearing within the room, April Kepner in the background laying on one of the beds.

"Team dinner in 30, ladies." Callie says with a smile, and when she gets two ok's, she moves on down to the next room. Team USA pulled into the parking lot of their mid level hotel just an hour ago. After a full night on the road, followed by a couple hours spent on a ferry, the ladies are now preparing to face a couple teams from the Upper Peninsula.

One room after another the Latina spreads the news. Yes, it'd be easier to send out a mass text, but Callie finds it better to check in on each of her teammates personally. She wants her team to feel free to come to her. About anything. She is their captain, on and off the field. Callie is their leader, and she is trying to be a leader she, herself, would want.

At the next door, she knocks and one of her signature smiles makes its way across Callie's face when Arizona opens the door. Arizona, too, smiles at the sight of the woman in front of her. The two have gotten very virtually no private time since yesterday morning, and both are itching for some more.

"Hi." Callie breathes out, utterly astounded by the powers those dimples seem to have over her.

"Hi." Arizona giggles, a blush racing across her cheeks as she hides her face behind the door.

"How's uhh… how's the room, Dr. Robbins?" The Latina plays, slowly inching her way closer and closer to the opened threshold. "Does it meet your expectations?" Arizona's mouth goes dry when the pitcher's nose picks up the unique, almost spicy aroma that drifts off the Latina.

"Where's your roommate?" Callie asks, taking the few seconds Robbins seems to be knocked off balance by surveying the rest of the blonde's room and finding it empty of anyone else.

"Cristina is down at Meredith's room." Arizona mumbles, silently thanking whoever is listening for the apparent invisible force field that is keeping Callie outside the room and the blonde inside.

"Naturally." Callie purrs, her lips turning up into the sexy, crooked smirk she has as she leans against the door jam, Arizona leaning against the open door. The two exchange a long gaze, neither really knowing what else to say but not wanting the other to leave just yet. It would be so easy for Callie to slip into Arizona's room and shut the door behind her. Shut out the rest of the team and plant her aching lips on those sweet ones Robbins' possesses. But that's not what she wants. Actually… that is very much what Callie wants, but she wants Arizona to initiate it. The Latina is still very aware that the blonde has not made a decision and it's killing her. Because there is nothing worse in the world than thinking you have a chance when you really don't.

But their moment is broken when a certain Korean player shoves past Callie and enters the bedroom with determination. Both Callie and Arizona exchange a small apologetic smile, then the Latina says "Dinner, half hour."

"Got it, Boss." Arizona replies, really wishing she had a bat right now. The blonde isn't one for physical violence, but anyone interrupting her alone time with Callie Torres deserves some form of corporal punishment.

Another tight smile and Callie continues on her rounds. Only one door left, and there is a reason she left it for the last. It contains two women who she use to be very close with, and now… it seems as they both hate her guts with such a passion it scares the catcher. She can understand why Erica wouldn't want to be as close as they use to be, but what Callie doesn't get is why Amelia has suddenly shunned her. It's not like it was Torres's idea to switch partners, in fact, if Mark had asked her before doing it Callie would have said no. You don't do something like that weeks before the Games, not after Torres and Shepard had been a team for years. But… the Latina would be lying if she said she was sorry that this was how it all played out. Even if it's ruffled some feathers amongst her teammates.

Screwing up her courage, and pulling on her face of diplomacy, Callie knocks Hahn's and Shepard's hotel door and waits. A deep laugh comes from behind the door, a laugh that use to make Callie smile. A laugh that use to fill the air _because _of Callie. Now it's just another thing that 'the incident' has taken out of the Latina's life.

Erica opens the door, a big smile on her face, but that smile immediately falters when steel blue eyes find Callie on the other side. "Can I help you?" The cool and calculated voice sends a chill down Callie's back, wiping out the heat and flush that Arizona had just given her a moment ago.

"Webber wants a team dinner, thirty minutes." Callie says, pulling on her best 'lets get over it and be friends again' smile.

"Fine." Hahn replies, then starts to close the door on the catcher.

"Wait!" Amelia calls out, and the door reopens. From within the room, Shepard gestures her co-captain into the room. "I have your socks." The brunette says, standing from her seat on the bed and starts to dig through her duffle bag.

"Wondered what happened to my other pair." The Latina mumbles, and she patiently stands off to the side as Erica starts to pull out something to wear for dinner. During Amelia's search she ends up bumping her purse off the side of the bed, all of its contents spilling out onto the floor.

Callie stoops down to help pick them up when Amelia yelps "No!" But it's too late. Brown eyes lock onto a small picture, one of a young blonde haired and blue eyed man with dimples standing infront of an American flag. It doesn't even take a second for the Latina to realize that this young man has to be Arizona's brother. And it's not just because Arizona herself said she had lost a picture of him, but because the two could be twins. Identical twins of one another, except for the fact that her brother looks a couple years younger in the picture.

Amelia rips the picture off the floor in attempts to hide it, along with a handful of other objects. "What is that?" Callie snaps, but Amelia pretends to not hear her. "What the hell is that?" The Latina asks again, this time raising her voice.

The brunette feels her world start to cave in on itself, and she starts to panic. "A… friend." Amelia tries to cover. The glare she gets from her captain could melt the iceberg that sunk the Titanic. Callie reaches out and grabs the picture, ripping it from the pitchers hand.

"Wha-why… Why do you have this?" Callie breathes out, a finger tracing the crinkled picture in her hand. A tear starts to form in the corner of her eye just thinking about having to tell Arizona that her own teammate had something so precious of the blonde's. Amelia's lips flap like a fish, words not wanting to form in her brain.

And just as Erica is stepping out of the bathroom, completely unaware of what the last thirty seconds have brought, brown eyes focus on another item lying on the floor below her. Suddenly things become so much clearer, and yet so much more difficult. Reaching down, Callie picks up a small notepad. It's white, with black print and has the name 'Dr. Arizona Robbins' written in the corner.

"You didn't…" Callie pleads, her eyes locking with those of her friends. Hoping and praying that the pitcher isn't that stupid. Hoping and praying that Amelia hasn't done what Callie thinks she has done. In that second, Amelia Shepard knows that her entire life is now screwed. The secret is out, and now she is at the mercy of her two captains. Captains who, they themselves, are a storm of emotions and hurt feelings.

The same question keeps shooting through Amelia's mind. Why did I do this? Why? It wasn't worth it. But under the cover of darkness, people do things they'd never do under the harsh glare of day. Decisions feel wiser, people feel bolder. But when the sun rises, you have to take responsibility for what you did in the dark and face yourself under the cold, harsh light of day.

* * *

AN2: Things are about to heat up. What is Callie going to do? Tell her coaches, tell Arizona? Will the co-captains handle it personally, or will Amelia be thrown at the mercy of her coaches? How will Arizona react to all of this, and will it have an effect on her's and Callie's growing relationship? Stay tuned folks.


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: Alright peeps, as promised. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 17

The laughter of Arizona Robbins fills the hotel's hallway as she and Teddy meander down its length after a very satisfying dinner. Team USA has a little under a week and a half left of their tour around the states, and then they take to the skies in search of the great city of London. Gold medals, honor to country, and tall tales to be told for years to come are just a few of the rewards if the fourteen young ladies perform as expected at the Olympic Games.

"Robbins." Someone calls from up the hall, making both pitcher and first baseman stop and turn. Sky blue eyes find the imposing figure of Callie Torres, and the blonde's heart starts to act on its own accord. "Can you come here, please?" Callie asks from the threshold of a hotel room Arizona is sure isn't the Latina's.

"S-sure." Arizona mumbles, then looks to her friend. "See ya tomorrow, Teds." With that, Arizona doubles back while Teddy stares after her. Suddenly Arizona is nervous for a completely different reason. It's not because of the urges and emotions she has for Callie, but because the catcher had been very… odd during dinner. Chilly. Cold. For all the warmth and life Arizona has seen in those deep brown eyes, the ones that stared down at her salad for over an hour tonight seemed dead. No, worse. They seem pained.

Approaching her captain, Arizona smiles in hopes of softening the look on her catcher's face. But it does little to soothe Callie Torres of the weight barring upon her at this moment. Not two hours ago, the Latina stumbled upon a little secret that has the ability to rip her entire team apart. To cost each of her teammates a shot at victory all because of one woman's decisions. And now… now the captain is floundering. She doesn't know what to do. But she has to tell Arizona, because she is sucked into this secret just as much as anyone else is at this point. Even if Arizona Robbins has no idea how.

The older woman's brow furrows when Callie can't meet her gaze, and Arizona softly asks "Calliope, are you ok?"

"No." Torres replies. And she's not. She's not ok. How can she be ok right now? The weight of her entire team is sitting on her shoulders. Her stomach is in knots and her hands ache with want of punching a certain brunette right in the face. But she is a captain, their captain. And this is her burden to bear.

"Can you…" Callie asks, taking a step back and opening the door further to allow the blonde to slip in. Once inside, Arizona's eyes go wide as she sees who else is in the room. Erica Hahn is sitting in one of the two arm chairs, a scowl on her face like one Arizona has only seen is the scariest of Attendings. And on the bed, looking like a prisoner waiting for the firing squad, is Amelia Shepard. The tension in the air nearly makes the newcomer gag, and her eyes immediately search for comfort in those of Callie Torres. But even there, she doesn't find safety because a fire rages in those depths that make fair hair stand on end.

"Callie… What's going on?" Arizona asks, trying to find a position in the room where her back isn't turned to either Hahn or Shepard.

"Can you tell me what this is?" The Latina asks, handing over a nearly empty orange pill bottle that Callie took from Amelia's possession. No matter how hard Erica or Torres pushed the pitcher, Shepard kept insisting that those pills were in fact anti inflammatories prescribed to her.

Arizona looks between the three other women in the room, then grabs the bottle. In the faint light she makes out the worn print of the label. "It's Celecoxib." The blonde states plainly, then looks up to meet Callie's gaze. "The same medication you asked me about over a week ago. Generic anti inflammatory."

"Told you." Amelia growls, hoping that that is the end of this whole thing.

"Shut your damned mouth, Shepard." Callie snaps, sending her teammate a look that says 'try me'.

"Wait…" Arizona breathes out, her fingers tipping over the bottle and spilling a couple pills out into the palm of her hand. "Celecoxib is a capsule. This is a pill." Both Callie and Erica turn their glares to the brunette sitting on her bed while Robbins continues her inspection. "A215…" She whispers, flipping through the catalogue of medication she has stashed away in her memory. "This is Oxycodone. 30 mg." The pitcher finally states, giving both Torres and Hahn the answer they were looking for. "Who is taking oxy?"

Erica's head falls into her hands as the older captain hears the ruling. Her teammate, one of her most trusted friends has done something enormously stupid, and now it's up to her and Callie, a woman who Erica can't stand to be around, to fix it before it gets out of control and makes its way to the coaches.

A growl comes from deep within Torres's chest, her fist clenching as her worst fears are confirmed. For weeks and weeks she had the feeling that something was up with the veteran pitcher. But Callie respected the woman's privacy and look where it's gotten her.

And Amelia… she's lost. Her world has folded in on itself. For months she has been hiding this secret, and when Arizona showed up with her nifty little prescription pad, it made it so much easier. But now… now it's out in the open. For months it's felt like Amelia was barely treading water, fighting the flood that was brought with the upcoming Olympic Games. All the fear, and anxiety and stress was too much. But when she took that one pill, that one pill that started it all, everything just fell away. She was numbed from the feelings. And that, in itself, was an amazing feeling. Suddenly she wasn't treading water, but floating on her back with the aid of her wonder drug. But now? She's falling. Drowning. Dying. And her entire future rests in the hands of two very pissed off captains, and the heart of a woman who Amelia has done nothing but step on since Arizona became a part of the team. Her future is squarely in the hands of the three women now staring at her.

"Will someone tell me what the hell is going on here?" Arizona barks, Amelia jumping at the sudden outburst. With a deep breath Callie reaches into her back pocket and pulls out the two stolen items. The picture of her brother is wrinkled and creased, his face obscure from where the photo is damaged. Tanned hands try to smooth it out but it doesn't straighten. She holds it out to the blonde next to her, eyes watching Arizona's face for a reaction.

"What…" Arizona breathes out, her gaze finding the picture of her brother and her chest tightening instantly. "Why… Why do you…" She whispers, gently taking the items from her captain's grasp. "Why do you have this? Where did you find it?" The blonde's mind isn't firing on all cylinders because of the sudden appearance of an item she thought she lost forever. Both Callie and Erica glance at the brunette still on the bed, while blue eyes move to the next item in her hands, her prescription pad.

Knowing that the only way anyone could be in possession of both items is by digging through her purse, Arizona exclaims "Callie! Where did you get these?" Anger is quickly rising and she takes a step closer to the taller Latina.

Callie's caught off guard by the accusation in Arizona's tone and she wonders how the blonde could ever think that Callie would do something like that. This hesitation only proves to piss Arizona off more and the shorter woman creeps up on her captain, fire in her eyes. "God damn it, Torres! Tell me-"

"It wasn't her." Erica snaps, rising to her full height as well, making the other blonde take a step away from Hahn's co-captain. Steel blue eyes turn to the other pitcher on the bed, and Arizona follows her gaze. Dots connect instantaneously. For weeks Arizona has been eyeing Amelia, sensing something was off with the veteran. But she was new then, she was 'NewGirl'. Robbins didn't want to step on any toes. And then when the signs continued, Arizona went to her captain and partner, Erica Hahn. But Erica immediately struck her queries down, telling Arizona to mind her own business. Since then, anything having to do with the frosty pair Robbins all but ignores.

"You stole my pad so you can get high." Arizona states, taking a few steps closer to the seated brunette. The scowl on Amelia's face would normally signal the blonde to run, but Shepard has crossed a line this time and Arizona doesn't intend on backing down.

"No." Amelia sneers.

"It wasn't a question!" Robbins barks, her hand clenching the two items in her hands. "Jesus what… what were you thinking?" She asks, and then starts to pace back and forth the few feet she can. "No, wait. You weren't! You weren't thinking at all were you? That brain of yours was turned off the entire time you were high as a fricken kite!"

Rolling her eyes, Amelia Shepard growls "Calm down Nebraska."

"NO!" Arizona snaps, causing all three women to jump. "No, it's not Nebraska. And it's not Alabama. And it's not NewGirl. It's Arizona Robbins. M.D.!" Blue eyes are dark with rage and Callie is afraid the blonde will actually cross the room in two strides and strangle Amelia. "Do you know what that means? It means I could _kill _you and make it look like an accident!"

"Alright…" She whispers, grabbing the pacing pitcher gently by the arm. Turning the raging Arizona to look at her, Callie says "You have a right to be upset."

"You think? !" Arizona snaps, tugging her arm free from her captains grasp. Finding the balled up picture in her fisted hand, she asks "Why the picture huh? Why did you take Tim from me? What purpose did that serve?" A fair hand tries in vain to smooth the paper out but it doesn't help and a single tear forms at her eye.

"It…" Amelia starts. "It was stuck between the pages of the pad when I took it." She whispers, eye dipping to the floor in shame. Shepard had no idea the picture was so special to Arizona, nor does she know why. But the blonde is getting more emotional about that than the pad, so it must be pretty important. "I didn't know it was there until later. And I could just give it back to you… You'd know that I-"

"Stole it. Went into my purse and stole my stuff." Robbins cuts the woman off. Silence descends upon the room, Callie and Erica standing at the perimeter, Amelia shrinking on the bed and Arizona actively trying to calm her breathing. The Latina's heart aches as she watches her pitcher experience this kind of pain and betrayal. Callie wants nothing more than to reach out, take the blonde in her arms and hold her until everything seems better. But that would add yet another layer of drama to this already screwed up scenario.

Bracing against the countertop and staring at herself in the mirror, Arizona breaks the silence. "What now? What happens now? We tell Webber and then…. Amelia is pulled, right?" Blue eyes watch in the reflection as the three other women exchange looks. "She gets pulled but we're still alright. Right?"

"How long will that drug stay in her system?" Callie asks, her gaze staying on the screw-up seated on the bed.

"I… I don't know. Four, five days." Arizona answers with a shrug. An idea slowly sinks into the blonde mind and Arizona turns. "We _are_ doing something about this, right?"

"What good would that do?" Erica asks rhetorically, meeting dark blue eyes with ones as cold as ice.

"Are you kidding me?" The newcomer sneers. "Are you _fricken _kidding me? ! You… you two aren't seriously thinking about letting this whole thing slide, are you?"

"Look at it from our position." Callie says in a weak voice, finally chancing a look at the raging blonde and immediately regretting that decision.

"And what position is that?" Arizona's tone is sharp and it cuts the Latina like a knife.

"We turn her in… and then what? We are a week and a half from the Games and down one of our two best pitchers. What happens then?" Torres states, hating herself for even considering it. But it's not Callie Torres, person, talking right now. It's Callie Torres, captain of Team USA. And it just so happens that now is one of the rare times those two Callie's don't see eye to eye.

"You are. …You're seriously thinking about covering this whole thing up." Arizona breathes out, her head shaking in disbelief. Of all the people to be so low, to drag the sport Arizona loves… they both love, down to this level, it makes the blonde lose all the respect she has for Callie.

"She hasn't hurt anyone." Erica steps in when Callie seems to be lost for words. "Yeah, she made a stupid choice. Many stupid choices but… she's only hurt herself. It's not like they were performance enhancing drugs. She was taking an edge off. You said the drugs will leave her system in five days. And then after that she will be clean."

"And what happens if a random screening pops up with her name on it, huh?" Robbins turns her death glare to the other blonde in the room. "It comes back that she tested positive for Oxy. Then they go back and check for a prescription and see that she used MY name, my pad to get those pills. What happens then? You really expect me to cover for her? Cover for all of your asses now that you've dragged me into this crap." Erica lets out a sigh while Callie takes a seat. No one knows what to do, but the welfare of their team is in the forefront of the captains' minds, as it has always been.

When all she receives is silence from the three women, Arizona takes a deep breath and states "It's a felony. What Amelia did? It's a felony. As in hard jail time. Not to mention whatever shitstorm would come if all of this 'cover up' stuff were to get out. And I'm _not _doing that." Turning her gaze to the woman who has remained silent throughout this entire fiasco, the same woman who would benefit from all of this while everyone else suffered. "You did this to yourself. And now you need to face the consequences. It's not because I don't like you, which I don't. This is not my fault, Shepard. I'm not the bad guy here."

One last glance to the three sullen women and Arizona moves through the room and steps out into the hallway. Callie stares after her while Erica and Amelia share a look of dread. Not only is the veteran pitcher done for good if Arizona tells on her, but if Robbins adds that the other two women were conspiring to cover it up, it would spell the end of Team USA for this year's Games. Because these three are three of USA's strongest players. It'd be like a football team taking the field with no quarterbacks.

"Damn it Shepard." Erica growls, her hand raking down her face in anger and anxiety. "Why? WHY? !" Turning to her co-captain, Hahn says "You have to go after her. You… you have to talk to her."

Callie doesn't even look back to the woman on the bed, she has no desire to see Amelia's pain. Amelia doesn't deserve to be in pain over this. Arizona, now she deserves pain. But Shepard? No, she brought this on herself and now she is leaning on Callie and Erica to dig her out of the huge hole the brunette is in.

"Arizona is right." The Latina whispers, her eyes catching blue ones. "The second we considered covering this up-"

"Please." Amelia pleads, a look of anguish on her face that Callie doesn't see. "I screwed up but I'll sober up. Just please. Please give me a shot."

"You know we are done without her." Erica adds, stepping in close to her co-captain. The blonde has a need for victory and she is not going to let one idiotic screw-up mess with her chances of gold. So if she has to manipulate, plead, coerce Callie into standing by her, she will. "We've been working years for this, Cal. Five days… that's all. We need five days and then Amelia will test clean." Callie is stuck, she knows the right thing but the woman has worked her ass off for too long to just give it up. "She'll listen to you. She will." Erica isn't above using whatever relationship Callie has with Arizona to sway the doctor into playing along. …And if it ends up ruining that relationship? Well, that's all the better.

She knows better. She knows it's wrong. But that gold medal is so close, that one thing Callie has been searching for for years is right in her grasp. And she's not about to let it slip through her fingers, not without at least talking to the woman who could sink them all. Leaving the room in search of her pitcher, Callie takes off down the hall. A wisp of hair flies around a corner as Arizona takes the stair well, no doubt on her way up to the next floor where their coaches are staying. The Latina runs like the wind, urging her body on fast and faster. She slams into the door, the latch opening and the door swinging back with force. She finds Arizona there, just behind the door and sitting on the bottom step, a wrinkled picture grasped between her hands.

"Arizona…" Callie breathes out, not knowing what else to say. She gets it, she really does. If she were Arizona, she would tell also. But Torres is in a unique position, one where she has to put the needs of her team and fellow teammates above that of her own, above that of her own revenge.

Blue eyes float up to her captain, the fire still swirling in their depths. "Don't ask me." Arizona knows why Callie followed her, and she knows what the woman wants.

"Please…" The Latina pleads. "Just… just think first. Ok? Just take a breath and think about what you are about to do. You're not just hurting Amelia. You're hurting this entire team. If you go to Webber… we're done." These aren't her words, these are the words Hahn said before dinner, buying the three of them time to really think about what they were going to do about it.

"Do NOT make me the bad guy in this!" Arizona shouts, her voice pinging off the concrete walls of the stair well. "I could lose my license, Calliope. Do you get that? I could lose everything just because that… that…" No word seems strong enough for the vile and contempt the blonde has for Amelia Shepard. "This is not about a damned game anymore. This is about my LIFE!"

"This is about fourteen lives, Arizona. You're not the only one on this team! Fourteen women have sacrificed blood, sweat and tears to be here. THIS, these Games, are our lives." The Latina exclaims. "Amelia gets kicked off and we are stuck with you. And you're great, you are. But you can't carry this team by yourself. You just can't! You try to carry us and you'll end up throwing your shoulder out again! And then we have NO pitchers." Arizona's jaw clenches as her captain lays into her. "…We NEEDAmelia in London." Callie's chest is heaving as she goes word for word with the blonde. Somewhere along the way Arizona has found her way to her feet, and with the one step height advantage, blue eyes stare down into brown.

"I can't believe you…" The blonde breathes out. "You're actually asking me to do this. To lie? To break my code of ethics, the pledge I swore when I received my medical degree. Like my life isn't a complete mess as it is. It's not enough that my brother died six months, one week and two days ago. It's not enough that I failed my residency boards six months, and three days ago." Her voice rises with each passing word. "Or that EVERY job I was offered was dropped because I couldn't pull myself together enough to take one damned test days after I found out my best friend in this entire world was killed in the line of duty. It's not enough that my parents divorced because they couldn't stand the grief of losing their son. That my girlfriend broke up with me because I was depressed and crying every single day! It's not enough that my whole life is one big… cosmological joke. Now you're asking me to break the ONE thing I have left working for me. My word. My principles." Her chest is heaving, her blood boiling and a her hands shake as the pain and anger from the past half a year comes rushing back over her body.

Callie stands there in shock, not ever expecting this kind of revelation from the blonde. She always thought that Arizona would divulge her deepest and darkest secrets to the Latina when they were curled together in the darkness. Their bodies bare and intertwined, their voices in nothing more than a whisper. Not here, not in this cold and deserted stairwell. Not coming out as weapons pointed towards the catcher in hopes of hurting her. No… this is not what Callie wanted at all. Nothing is making sense anymore.

"Arizona…" The Latina whispers, reaching forward in hopes of making some sort of physical contact in this cold environment but Arizona yanks her arm away. "I didn't know. I swear… I-"

"No. You didn't. And there is a reason why! I see it now." The pitcher snaps, tears springing up again as soon as she voiced the hurt she has bottled up for the past five months. "Because getting personal? Getting close to someone is a mistake. Because all they'll do is use you and then throw you away. But I thought you were different."

"I _am _different." The catcher replies, tears threatening to fall but she keeps them held tight. Because she knows that showing those tears would not help this situation.

"No. No you're not. You're just like the rest of them." The blonde rebuttals. What used to be shouting is now the calm voice of someone who has made up their mind. It's not of someone struggling, but someone who is steadfast and that scares Callie more than anything.

Pushing past her captain, Arizona yanks open the stairwell door leading back out to the team member's rooms. Pausing at the threshold, blonde tresses wave slightly as Arizona shakes her head. "I liked you, Calliope. _A lot. _I really did. But… now?" Blue eyes drift up from the floor and lock on to saddened brown eyes. A strangled sigh escapes pink lips, and the next second Arizona is gone.

Callie is left standing along in the stairwell wondering how the hell her world got turned upside down in a matter of hours. Before dinner, before stepping in to Hahn's and Shepard's room, the Latina had everything figured out. Everything was good. She had a firm grasp on her team, a team that would no doubt slaughter any competition it came up against. And she was on the hunt to convince an amazing beautiful and amazingly bright woman that Callie was worth the risk. That Calliope Torres wasn't like any other woman out there. That she was someone special, someone Arizona couldn't live without. But now… everything is so dark. Sliding down one of the concrete walls, her head hanging in her hands, the coldness seeps into the captain's body, mirroring the coldness now seeped into her soul.

* * *

The night passes and no one comes. And then the next day passes, and no one comes. All the while Callie waits for the shoe to drop. Every time Coach Webber opens his mouth the captain is sure it's to call out Amelia, Erica and herself. But as each hour passes, as each minute ticks by, nothing seems to be said. She thought that if Arizona was going to tell, she would have done so by now. But Torres hasn't plucked up enough courage to even approach the blonde. That spark of intimacy and closeness that was brewing between then has since frozen solid, and Callie doubts there's a fire out there hot enough to melt it.

The past two days have been two of the worst for Amelia as well. Though her addiction wasn't a terrible one, she still has the itch for a hit. Her body craves a pill and when she doesn't get it, her body punishes her with pain. She agreed to the terms her captains gave her and she is set on complying with them. The terms? Get sober or she's out on her ass. So she pushes the pain down and digs in deep. And with the watchful eye of her roommate, Erica Hahn, always on her, there is no way for Shepard to slip up. Amelia knows she screwed up, she knows it was a stupid idea, and she wants to do better.

Two mornings after the incident, Team USA is loading up the bus and getting ready for another long leg of travel. Arizona has been distant, both physically and emotionally, from the rest of the team. Everyone has noticed some sort of… shift in her relationship with not just Callie, but with all of her teammates. Her performance both at shortstop, as well as the batter's box, were her worst yet. Arizona was just out of sync with everyone else, and couldn't find her groove. Even Webber noticed his little pick-me-up speech to her proved no good and he senses something is amiss with his players.

"Load it up, ladies! We got a lot of miles to cover today!" Hunt hollers over the whining and mumbling of fourteen women trucking up to the bus. Arizona, still stuck in the funk of a bad showing mixed with that of being utterly used, throws her bag into the storage compartment with more force than necessary, making Teddy look at her in confusion. Callie watches the blonde from her position at the back, and her heart aches. If only she could talk to her, but the Latina knows that is just playing with fire.

Once all equipment and luggage is loaded, the girls board the bus and settle in for a long drive. A flicker of hope ignites in the Latina's mind when she see's Arizona meander down the narrow aisle and approach her usual bench. When Arizona looks up and catches warm brown eyes, she returns the gaze with a chill colder than ice. Quickly grabbing all of her stuff that from her temporary home, Arizona turns her back to the Latina and marches back up the aisle, grabbing one of the empty seats in the middle, close to both Addison and Teddy.

This move does not go unnoticed by the team, and everyone exchanges a look of confusion but no one offers any explanation. Amelia shrinks into her own seat, nauseous from both the guilt and anxiety of this whole thing, as well as the withdrawal of her wonder drug. Directly across from her, Erica sends the brunette a death glare. For as much as she dislikes Arizona Robbins, the co-captain hates to put an innocent person into this position. Why Arizona is risking her neck for a group of women who have been less the civil towards her? Hahn doesn't know, and it makes her feel even worse.

* * *

"Wanna talk about it?" A voice whispers as Arizona has her nose buried in her notebook, her eyes having skimmed over the same paragraph for over an hour and yet somehow not reading a single word. Looking up, the blonde finds Teddy leaning over from her seat directly across from Robbins.

"About what?" Arizona questions, turning her gaze back to the book in efforts of pretending all is fine.

"About whatever has you all pissed off." The first baseman states. But when her friend doesn't respond, Teddy glances towards the back of the bus where she finds Callie staring out the bus window with a look like someone stole her puppy. Altman wasn't exactly sure what Robbins' and Torres's relationship consisted of, but she is definitely sure that something has changed. Something big has happened. Enough that it makes Arizona physically move away from the Latina.

Addison overhears their conversation and turns in her chair, very interested in what has happened as well. The redhead has been able to get nothing, absolutely nothing out of Callie, Erica or Amelia. That in itself says something, but Montgomery can't figure out what it all means.

Crossing the aisle and taking the empty seat next to Arizona, Teddy says "You can tell me, you know. Whatever it is."

"Did something happen between you and Cal?" Addison asks, making blue eyes whip up to green.

"You and Callie?" Teddy parrots, her mouth going wide. "You two are a-"

"NO." Arizona snaps, giving both women a pointed look. "Torres and I are nothing. Ok?"

"Look… Arizona." Teddy drawls, keeping her voice low so that anyone trying to listen in can't hear anything. "I don't care. You know that, right? I mean… it's not like I've been playing by the rules. Hunt's a coach and we've been-"

"We don't need details, Altman." Addison cuts her teammate off, then adds. "And you know my history. I'm not squeaky clean either." Though the redhead hasn't been with Derek since that hookup in the equipment shed weeks ago, Addison would be lying if she said she hadn't gotten it from someone else.

Aggravation and anger starts to turn Arizona's vision red. Her fists clench and her eyes close as she tries to get herself under control. A strangled breath floats out her nose and she says "Just because you two are screwing the coaches doesn't mean I'm screwing someone too, alright? I am here to play ball, and that's it. I'm not here for a girlfriend, I'm not here to get laid. I'm here to win. NOW… if that is all, will you two _please _leave me alone?" Her two friends, or atleast they were her friends, exchange a confused glance. They know something is up, it doesn't take a genius to figure that much out, but they don't know what it is. So resigning to the fact the blonde isn't going to talk they each go back to their own things, leaving Robbins to stew.

And stew she has. For two nights time Arizona Robbins has done nothing but stew. She really, like _really _wanted to throw Amelia under the bus. And she should have, it's the right thing to do. It's the legal thing to do. That woman stole her prescription pad and made out false scripts just so Amelia could go and get high. But something… Arizona couldn't. She couldn't do it. Even though every single fiber in her being was yelling at her to go straight to Webber and sing like a canary. But those chocolate eyes haunted her, Callie's pleading kept the blonde's clenched fist from pounding on Webber's hotel room door.

So that night she laced up her running shoes and she ran. She ran until her feet fell off. Arizona Robbins was running in the dead of night, getting lost in whatever semi-large city they were in in the Upper Peninsula. As her shoes pounded the pavement, she fought. Fought with herself. Fought with her dead brother. Fought with her divorced parents. Fought with her ex-girlfriend. Fought with her Chief of Surgery and those hospitals that pulled her job offers. She said things to them that she had always wanted to say, all the mean and hurtful things Arizona bottled up and kept to herself. She let those awful things go, yelled them out into the night air for all to hear.

And somehow after that run, she lost her rage. It just ran right out of her. Yes, Arizona is still upset, still unbelievably angry, that the woman stole from her, ruined her brother's picture and signed Arizona's name on a script pad. But that need to rip Shepard's throat out has dwindled. There are times where it flares back up, and its often, but the blonde's vision isn't near as red as it was in that hotel room. So for now, Arizona is going to wait. Wait until the drug tests. And then figure out what the hell she is going to do.

* * *

When the sun starts to dip below the horizon, Erica sits up in her seat and stares down the aisle to the back of the bus. Her gaze falls upon the stretched out body of Callie Torres, the catchers long and lean body taking up the five seats that make up the back bench. The rest of her team are doing their own thing, some huddled together looking at a magazine, some messing around on their laptops, while others read or even snooze during the long leg of the trip.

Looking across the aisle the blonde sees Amelia Shepard passed out in a very unnatural position. The captain has been keeping a very close eye on the younger player after stripping her of her pills that night. Sensing that the brunette will be out for a while longer, Erica unfolds her body from the cramped position she was curled in and stands. A low moan escapes from her lips when her legs take her body weight, a full day of sitting not helping her sore muscles and joints.

The blonde weaves and steps over the mess of limbs and junk littering the aisle as she moves down the length of the bus. At just past mid way she reaches the new bench of Arizona Robbins. The newcomer looks up from her laptop for a second and immediately tenses. Blue eyes lock with blue, but as soon as it happens, Robbins drops her gaze back to her lap. Hahn knows she needs to talk to Arizona, that she needs to thank her or… try to explain, but Robbins isn't talking to anyone. Let alone the one woman who has made her life a living hell since Arizona became a member of the team.

Continuing her journey she finally comes to the back seat. Dark eyes are glued to the roof of the bus as the Latina's music pumps in her ears. Only when blonde hair cascades down, obscuring her view does Callie realize she has company. Sitting up and pulling her earbuds from her ears, she gives her co-captain a hard glare. For weeks Erica Hahn avoided Torres like the plague, but then two nights ago they were forced to come together again. Not as friends, but as co-captains. And even that was difficult and painful.

Without asking, Erica takes a seat next to Callie and looks up at the rest of the bus in front of her. From here she has an eagle's eye view of the entire team, and even from a distance she can sense the tension in the air.

"What?" Callie asks, looking out the window to her right.

"Has Webber mentioned anything about a drug test yet?" The blonde questions. A sigh falls from luscious lips and the Latina's head falls back, hitting the seat.

"I can't believe you talked me into this, Hahn. I just…" The hurt and anger starts to stir within the younger captain, the scene from that night replaying in her mind. The one where Erica and Amelia pleaded with Callie to let it slide, to let this whole thing work itself out. Callie was set on turning Shepard in, dead set. Even if it meant that their hopes at gold were dashed, but then Erica opened her mouth and confused the Latina with logic. The blonde told her that if Torres did what she wanted, everyone would be hurt. If they let it go, made sure Amelia sobered up before the Games, it would be like it never happened.

Erica's jaw clenches, and her own anxiety and stress comes out. "Look, I'm sorry this screwed up your budding romance with NewGirl but-"

"If you want to keep your tongue, I suggest you stop talking. Right now." Callie cuts her co-captain off. It's one thing that Callie made a horrible decision, but to drag Arizona into it has made the Latina miserable. And to hear Hahn, the one pushing for Callie to turn the other cheek, bad mouth the one woman saving all their asses is too much.

"Her name is Arizona. And she's the one keeping all three of us here right now. Because if she told? If she did what she should, the closest you, me and Shepard would get to London is in front of a TV screen." Torres adds. The idea of missing out on the one dream she has had since she can remember is too much. But then the look of hurt and disappointment in Arizona's eyes flashes across the Latina's mind, making her stomach knot all over again.

"You know what? You need to leave, Hahn." Callie spits and thankfully Erica doesn't fight her. Because every second Erica sits next to her the Latina gets hotter and hotter… and not in the good way.

* * *

"Half hour ladies, then back on the bus!" Derek Shepard calls out as the team spills out of their tour bus. It's the last stop of the day and once everyone is back on, USA won't be stopping until they reach their destination early tomorrow morning.

Arizona hangs back, waiting for the crowd to disperse before she approaches the checkout counter. Setting down her bag of chips, bottle of Arizona and pack of gum, she turns a dimpled smile to the checkout clerk. "And… a pack of Marlboro menthols please." The blonde looks around her, making sure none of her teammates are around as the older man behind the counter rings her up. Quickly grabbing a purple lighter from the display, she pays for her merchandise and heads back outside. Most of the ladies have taken a seat at the small diner attached to the gas station, or some meander around the parked bus to stretch out their legs. But Arizona isn't in the mood for company, she hasn't been for a while.

Once in a more closed off area of the rest stop, the access entrance on one side and wooded area on the next, the pitcher takes a seat on the dirty curb and pulls out her cigarettes. The surgeon doesn't smoke. It's unhealthy. It's disgusting. She's seen inside too many smokers' bodies to do something as stupid as smoke. Unless she's in a trouble, or under a huge amount of stress. Like when Tim died, when she failed her boards, when her folks split up AND when her girlfriend walked out on her. That was a rough month. She's actually surprised she survived that month, what with the smoking and the god awful amount of alcohol she ingested.

Pulling one stick from the pack, Arizona brings it up to her lips. Her lungs tingle with anticipation. And when she lights the cigarette and breathes in that flame, it seems to quench the forest fire roaring within her. Her mind wanders as the smoke leaves her body, each inhale bringing another second of relief only to be lost on the exhale. The scuffing of feet alert the smoking blonde that she has company but she makes no effort to hide her secret.

"You smoke?" Callie questions lamely as she slowly approaches her pitcher. Blue eyes advert back to the expanse of trees in front of her, offering no form of response to the Latina. Tanned hands are shoved into the pocket of her hoodie and Callie tries to find something to say to Arizona. Something that would make it all ok, something to let the blonde know that this whole thing is making Torres sick too.

Without asking, Callie sits on the curb next to Arizona, but out of arms reach. "I didn't know you smoked." She adds, but gets only a puff of smoke in reply. "I'm sorry, Arizona." The Latina tries a different tact. Turning to see the blonde's profile, she continues "I'm sorry about this. About everything. About Erica, and Amelia. About how they treated you before. I should have done… something. I should have done something." All she gets is silence in return.

"Amelia says she's been sober for three days so… as long as there is no test in the next few days we should be ok." Callie offers, hoping that will get some sort of relieved expression from Robbins, but it doesn't even faze the blonde. "Erica is watching her closely, making sure she doesn't get anything else in her. But I think Amelia is really sorry about all this. She really is trying to get better." That statement gets the biggest reaction yet, Arizona clenching her jaw and shaking her head in anger, but still no words fall from her lips.

"Not that you care…" Torres whispers, her eyes falling to the stained cement in front of her. After a few seconds of silence, Callie adds "You know, sometimes I hate being a captain. I mean, most of the time I love it. But… things like this? I hate it. I hate having to place the welfare of the entire team over everything else." Brown eyes peek at the blonde, but finding Arizona's expression as cold as stone. "Because I like you too, Arizona. I like you a lot. And… I hate that I hurt you by asking you to do this for me. …And it's not even for me. It's for the good of the team. But I hate it… because I hurt you. And I never _ever _wanted to hurt you." The catcher had hoped this would get something out of Arizona. Any emotion other than anger, or maybe a soft word. But nothing, just another deep inhale of the blonde's cancer stick.

"And I'm sorry. For everything." Emotion makes her voice thick and she tries to clear her throat. "All that's happened to you. Your bro-"

"Stop." Arizona snaps, flicking the cigarette from her hand and standing. "Don't." Blue eyes look down at Callie, her glare sharp as a knife. "I don't want your damned pity, Torres. You don't get to talk about my brother, you got that? You don't get to feel better about this entire thing by just apologizing to me, crying and pleading that I understand. You don't get to do that." Callie swallows the lump in her throat but she keeps her mouth shut. This outburst is the most Arizona has spoken to her since the blonde left her in the cold stairwell that night two nights ago.

"I went against my better judgment and I kept my mouth shut. I didn't say anything to Webber or Sloan or Derek. I didn't. But that doesn't mean I won't sing like a canary if her test comes back positive. You understand me? There is a _big _difference between keeping quiet and actually lying. And if it comes to saving my license, I will turn her ass in. I will. I don't care who goes down with her." Callie absorbs the blonde's word, words so sharp that they pierce her heart like a hundred individual shards of glass. Seconds pass, cerulean locked with chocolate as the two women remain silent. The tightness in Arizona's chest starts to worsen and she's not sure if it's from the cigarette or the emotions that are rising up again.

Their impasse is broken by Mark Sloan's voice piercing the air. "Load up ladies! Come on, move your asses." Arizona looks away first, her gaze flicking to the rumbling bus just around the corner, then back down to the sitting Latina. Without another word, the blonde grabs the rest of her purchases and leaves the catcher by herself. Callie stares after the blonde, wondering how in the world she will ever make it right with Arizona.

* * *

AN2: So… what you all think? Couple steps forward just to fall a mile back. Are they doing the right thing? For the team? And is there any hope of regaining Arizona's trust? Only time will tell…


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: Alright, next chapter is up. Yay? I think so. I know its late and all that jazz but better late than never. Again, I want to say that I know nothing about how the Olympics work backstage, or how things are done on the teams. I'm just going off of my own, personal experiences with college athletics. Worlds apart, I know. But that's what I'm using. So just think of it as literary license. Also, a HUGE thank you for the awesome response from the last chapter. When reviews are that heated and passionate, it lets me know that ya'll are really digging the story. Ok, enough blah blah blah. On with the story. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 18

"Grey, Canner." Owen announces and the two players step forward, their duffle bags and other necessities in their arms, and grab the two hotel key cards. "Yang, Bailey." He follows.

"Great." Yang growls. "I got the Nazi." The Korean states as she snatches her key out of Coach Hunt's hand, knowing one Miranda Bailey is not a woman who allows any sort of shenanigans to occur around her. If Cristina and Meredith are going to be having any fun in this leg of their trip, it will have to be in Grey's room.

"And I got Rosemary's baby." Bailey drawls which makes the few teammates left waiting snicker in amusement.

"Robbins, King." Hunt continues, and both Arizona and Charlotte take their key and head off to their room. Arizona doesn't much care who her roommate is at this point as long as it's not Amelia, Erica or Callie. Because surely one of them would end up dead or disfigured, and Arizona knows how to fight dirty.

Callie stares after the retreating blonde, Robbins not having said another word to the Latina since her smoke break last night. Torres is pulled from her guilt trip by Hunt restating "Torres."

"What?" She snaps, head whipping around the see her coach and a handful of other players all staring at her. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"You and Altman." The redhead says, and dark eyes find a smiling first baseman holding up two key cards. Teddy and Callie start to head down the hall to the elevators when the Latina hears Owen continue. "Kepner, Shepard."

"Uhh…" The catcher stops in her tracks, mind going into overdrive. "I'll meet you up there. I need to talk to Hunt about… something."

"Ok." Teddy replies with a shrug, then continues on her trek to find their next home away from home.

Turning back to the lobby, Callie intercepts both Amelia and April on their way to the elevators. "You two, wait." She says, not making eye contact with the pitcher. Torres can't stand to be in Amelia's company, not only because she's a disgrace to the team, but also because of what she forced Callie to do with Arizona. Using their relationship to keep Amelia on the team, it was way low. And the Latina has been sick about it since Arizona left that stairwell. It's eating her alive.

The last pair to be assigned a room approach and Erica's eyes locks with Callie's, the two silently figuring out how to handle this next obstacle. Grabbing Hahn's roommate's key card, Callie says "Kepner and Little Grey, you're rooming together." The two captains need to make sure that Amelia stays sober, and Callie isn't about to babysit, which means that responsibility falls into the other captain's lap.

Mouth agape, Lexie starts "But Coach-"

"We voted, you lost." Erica snaps, cutting her younger teammate off. Lexie and April exchange a confused look while Amelia paws at the carpet with her foot. The tension within the team has risen drastically since that night three nights ago, but no one outside of the very unlucky four knows exactly why. With an evil eye from both their captains, Kepner and Little Grey head to their room.

Turning to eye her two fellow conspirators, Callie clenches her jaw and lets out a strangled sigh. "I can't… why did I let you two talk me into this?"

"Eye on the prize, Torres." Erica replies nonchalantly, like this whole thing isn't eating her up as well. But it is, just not in the same way it is with Callie. She's worried about losing her chance at gold, where as the Latina is more upset about what it's doing to her team. …Her Arizona. With a stern look to the pitcher behind her, Erica gives a tight nod to her co-captain and then heads off to their room. Amelia offers a tight smile and follows, leaving a very nauseous feeling Calliope Torres behind.

* * *

Callie Torres is not so fully immersed into some gossip magazine that was next to the register at Team USA last pit stop. They had been at the hotel for a couple hours now and had no real plans for the night. One of the downfalls of traveling like they do is that enormous amount of down time each of the women have. Not only do they not have individual transportation, but most don't have the pocket change to go out and entertain themselves in each city they stop in. But they each find a way to pass the time. And yet time seems to be dragging on prolifically for the Latina. Her mind isn't shutting up and letting the issue drop. All those things Arizona yelled at her, those pieces of the blonde's life that she has kept close to her chest, they keep replaying in her mind. And it's eating her alive.

This does not go unnoticed by her roommate who is sprawled out on her own bed and munching on a bag of carrots. Teddy Altman has been silently surveying her captain, as well as Hahn, Shepard and Robbins for the better part of three days. Ever since Callie called Arizona back that night after dinner things have been… off. But Arizona's lips are sealed tighter than her fists and the first baseman isn't about to broach the subject with either Hahn or Shepard… because Teddy isn't looking to die in the next few months, so that leaves just one person left.

Rising from her bed, the blonde aimlessly meanders around her room for a couple seconds before sitting on her roommate's bed. Her eyes float over the ugly standard hotel art then come to rest on Callie, dark orbs glazed over as the Latina is lost in her own world.

The dipping of her mattress pulls Torres out of her internal flogging of herself and without looking up from the magazine she asks "You got a problem?"

Teddy shrugs innocently and answers "No."

"Do you have a mocha latte?" The captain asks, not in the mood for polite conversation.

"No." Altman answers, long locks moving across her shoulders as she shakes her head no.

"Then go away." Callie growls, then flips the page in her magazine to keep up the act of her actually reading it.

"How long have you and I known each other, Torres?" Teddy muses, reclining back on Callie's bed and staring up at the ceiling. But when all she gets is silence, she adds "Like 7, 8 months right? Before Arizona, I was the New Girl." She doesn't hear the faint exhale Callie lets out at Arizona's name being mentioned. Turning on her side and propping her head up on her arm, Teddy continues "Did you know Arizona's family is military too? Marines… Not Army, but still… not bad." The blonde jokes and Callie slowly lowers the magazine in her hands. "Her dad was a Marine. Colonel, if I remember correctly." Altman doesn't have a real game plan here, but she's hoping that if she gets talking about a certain blonde enough, her captain will open up and maybe let something slip.

And it works because Callie adds "And her brother."

This catches Teddy's attention, not having heard this fact before, and she sits up. "Her brother is a Marine?" The Latina's blood runs cold as she realizes she just let slip a personal detail that Arizona hadn't shared with her closest friend on the team. The blonde told her in a moment of anger and hurt, but didn't tell the one person who has been by Arizona's side from the beginning. And, like shock waves after a tsunami, another wave of guilt washes over the captain.

"Was…" Callie whispers, her head falling into her hands. "He… died." Teddy's expression immediately goes blank. Of all the secrets Altman thought Robbins might be keeping to herself, might have buried deep down, this was never one of them. "He died in the line of duty." Tears pool behind chocolate eyes as the scene between Arizona and Callie plays out again in the Latina's mind. "Jesus… what have I done?" She whispers to herself.

"What _have _you done?" Teddy asks softly. The tension that has found its way between four of the best players on the team has not gone unnoticed, and Teddy Altman is afraid. Not just for her chances at gold, but because these women… these thirteen other women, and six guys, are her family. One big, crazy, messed up, incestuous family. And to see any of them hurt pains her. But when dark brown eyes find hers, Teddy knows that she's gotten the last bit of information her captain will give.

* * *

"How you feeling, Blondie?" Mark asks from his position just behind Arizona on the practice mound. It's the day after the team made it to Alabama and now USA is gearing up to face one of the top five teams in the nation. Its Robbins first time back on the mound since the whole Amelia mess happened, and she hopes to make a better showing than the last game. But every time blue eyes find those behind the red face mask facing her, anger rages through her body making it nearly impossible to do her job.

"Fine." The pitcher answers, then winds up and sends another heater down the middle. The burn in Callie's hand tells her that Arizona is throwing harder than she usually does, and that's not a good thing. Not now. Not during practice, not during warm up. But the Latina is stuck. She doesn't know how to act around Arizona anymore. Callie has shot herself in the foot and all she really wants to do with dance with Arizona. But it's impossible. …Because of the bullet hole.

"Bring it in, ladies!" Webber hollers, and Team USA jogs back to the visitors' dugout. "Ok ladies, game time. Alabama is one of the best out there, so bring it. I want to see you hustle and push. We are within two weeks time of the Games. _Now _is the time to come together as a team and work. Work hard." Ten heads nod, only a certain four remain frozen as Arizona sends a glare to a certain addict across the circle from her. "Arizona, you're leading off. Alright, Torres send it off." Webber says then backs up to let his team do their thing.

"Alright ladies…" Callie says, and has to clear her throat to wash the emotion from her voice. "On me. USA!" and it's immediately followed by a chorus of "All the way!"

Slapping her helmet into place, Arizona Robbins steps up to the batter's box as the first up for her team. The usual nerves that come at the start of every game are present, and with a quick breath, the blonde tells herself to play her game, and no one else's. Taking the first pitch, she gets on base with a nearly perfectly placed slap. And just like that, her performance this game is one hundred percent better than the last game.

USA doesn't score a run as the Alabama pitcher retires her fifth batter, and Arizona heads out onto the circle. Clipping on the last strap of her shin guard, Callie makes a detour on her way to behind the plate. Crossing the chalk, she walks up to the blonde smoothing out the dirt in front of her pitching rubber. Blue eyes glance up at the intruder and her free hand clenches involuntarily.

"Hey…" Callie breathes out, then positions herself so her back is to their team dugout, moving her mouth away from the view of her coaches. "You ok?"

A sarcastic laugh falls from pink lips and Arizona swipes a stray blonde hair that has blown free from her pig tails behind her ear. "Yeah Boss… Just peachy." She bites. Robbins knows she shouldn't bring her emotions on the field, because on the field they are a team. A single, cohesive unit working toward one goal. But that does little to quell her disappointment with her captains. How is she suppose to look up to them, view them as her leaders when they have used and abused their position and Arizona's powers as a physician to cover up Amelia's screw up.

Callie takes a small step forward and reaches out to softly grasp the fairer woman's arm but stops herself, suddenly aware how many eyes are on them. Pulling back, she whispers "Arizona…"

"Just get behind the plate, Torres." Arizona pleads, her eyes dropping from that of her captain's and continues to smooth out her pitching circle with her foot. Perfect teeth bite at her lower lip, but it's hidden behind the Latina's face mask. With a small nod, Callie back tracks and takes her spot at the home plate.

Three batters into the first inning and Arizona is fighting hard. It's not the oppressive heat, the stifling humidity, or the feel of a hundred sets of eyes on her that makes her stumble. But those soft brown eyes staring back at her from behind the batter. Almost like Callie is pleading with each pitch to forgive her, which makes Arizona throw even harder. Everyone can sense something is off with those two, the smoothness and chemistry that was there at Arizona's last pitching appearance has evaporated. Now they look as comfortable together as a cat being dipped into a tub of water. Arizona shakes off a pitch more times than she accepts it, and even then her pitch isn't what it should be. The blonde has cut the cable in her battery. No longer are they a team, but two individual players playing for completely opposite reasons.

After three innings, Mark Sloan knows something is definitely going on between his star player and newest pitcher. Before, they were like magic. But now? Dud. Two duds. Arizona can't get a string going long enough to gain any momentum and Torres isn't helping matters any. He knows Callie, he's been her coach for years. He knows how the Latina operates, and when she hasn't taken a time out to go talk to her pitcher and cool Robbins down, he knows something off field has affect everything on field.

Fourth inning comes and a trail of sweat beads its way down a fair face, blue eyes squinting from behind her sunglasses. It's hot, really hot. And Arizona is feeling the fatigue. She's been throwing harder than ever, all because she is taking her anger out on Callie the only way she knows how to. And that's by trying to break her hand. But now, after only four innings, she's spent. Which is why Coach Sloan has called time out and is striding out on the field. He glances toward home plate and beckons Torres to join him.

"What's going on?" He asks, staring into the reflective blue of the blonde's sport shades.

"Nothing." Arizona says with a heavy breath while using her sleeve to wipe at her face.

"You're flailing." Mark counters, Callie shifting nervously from foot to foot.

"I'm fine." Robbins snaps back, her tone much sharper than what she would usually use with someone of a higher authority. Blue eyes look past her coach and find Shepard and Hahn warming up on one of the practice mounds and her jaw clenches in frustration. Not only is Arizona covering Amelia's ass, but now Amelia gets the satisfaction of knowing she is being put in to clean up what Robbins couldn't do.

Turning to Callie, who has been praying that she wouldn't get dragged into this, Mark asks "What do you think? She done?"

"I'm _fine._" Arizona growls.

Dark eyes flick between those of her pitchers and those of her coach's. "She's struggling a bit." The Latina offers lamely. Anyone with an eye could see that but Callie doesn't want to pile anymore on top of the blonde.

That answer doesn't make Mark happy, and he asks again "What do you _think_?"

Blue eyes connect with hers, one of the few times since that fateful night, and Callie says "She's done. She's been throwing grapefruits at me for the last four batters." Whatever trace of silently pleading in Arizona's face immediately dissipates, instead a look of fury furrowing her light brows. Mark calls for a sub and Arizona roughly shoves past Callie, giving the larger and stronger woman a shoulder check that makes Torres falter on her feet for a second.

"You too." Mark adds, gesturing for Callie to hit the bench. "Go rehydrate. Don't need you exhausting yourself before the Games." The Latina nods weakly and drops the ball in her glove on the ground. She passes both Amelia and Erica on the way off and both avert their gazes from the tired catcher. Once clear of the playing field, Torres pulls off her gear and grabs a Gatorade. Her eyes fall upon a certain blonde who is unceremoniously shoving her glove into her bag, all the while a string of unpleasant obscenities fall from her lips. And right then Callie knows that something has to happen to get her team flowing again.

* * *

Fate showed itself the following morning when every door was pounded on by Coach Webber and every player was told to meet downstairs at the bus in thirty minutes. And the heart of Amelia Shepard started to race when the words 'drug test' was uttered. Her entire world, however shaky it has been since that night four nights ago, started to go black again. 'Four, five days maybe.' That's all she could replay in her mind, Arizona… Dr. Robbins… saying that the oxy will stay in her system for up to five days. Well… it's been four days. Four full days, and a couple hours. Every minute of that time was spent in pain, the constant itch and need for another hit. But under the unforgiving eye of Erica Hahn, Amelia Shepard managed to stay clean. And now she is hoping that it has been long enough since her last pill that all that pain was worth something, hoping she is still in the race.

"Alright ladies, line up on that bench." One of the test administers calls. Team USA has been carted to the training facility of Alabama's University for the test, and fourteen rear ends find a seat on a long and well worn wooden bench. "Those of you who are new, listen up. Those of you who have done this before, listen up anyways." The woman barks, then holds up a plastic cup. "One at a time, you will go into that bathroom and take off your hoodies and sweatpants. You will wash your hands. You will enter the first stall and keep the door open. I will watch you fill this cup up to the line. You will set the cup on the ground, away from you so I can see it. Only then can you close the door and finish up. After you are done, you will wash your hands and then take your sample to the other administers at that table…" She points to a fold out with two waiting test administrators. "…and watch as they process your sample. After that, you will sign your sample as well as a release form." Team USA sits quiet as the Olympic Representative goes over the rules of their drug test. "If I think any of you are trying to tamper with the test, you're sample will immediately be tossed and you will forfeit your position on Team USA. …Any questions?"

No one answers, so the woman says "Alright, whoever is ready to go, let's do it." One by one the line starts to shorten. Lexie Grey and April Kepner have to go to the end of the line after their bladders decided to dry up on them with the harsh woman's glare pointed directly at them. Arizona isn't new when it comes to drug tests, she had to take one during the very short time she was on a college team, but still it doesn't get any easier. No one realizes how much they enjoy their personal space while in the bathroom until it's taken away from you. But finally, with her eyes shut tight to block the woman out, and some encouraging mumblings to herself, her cup fills up.

As she passes back in front of her team, she eyes Amelia Shepard on the bench. The brunette's foot is going a mile a minute and Robbins is sure that by the end of all this Amelia won't have any fingernails left to chew on. Arizona actually wishes that Shepard's test turns up positive. It would be some form of punishment out of all of this, and Amelia wouldn't end up getting of scotch free. But the flip side… when the Olympic Committee digs into the origin of Shepard's drugs their search will end right at Dr. Arizona Robbins. Talk about being stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Once her test is all sealed and signed, Arizona meanders back outside into the muggy morning air. The light rain that fell overnight has done nothing but put moisture in the air, and Robbins is grateful USA doesn't have to play today. Only a few other teammates are outside, all circled up and yawning in time with one another. Extracting herself quietly, Arizona finds a place out of the way and brings a cigarette up to her lips. As her body consumes the flame, her mind retraces the last few days and all that has transpired. The smoke fills strong, clean lungs and blue eyes tear at the burn. It gives Arizona something to hold on to, something she can control. She can control how deep to inhale, how long to keep the vicious smoke within her body, and only she alone can say when.

This is it, this is the moment. One way or the other, it's all over. Amelia passes and it's like the whole situation never happened. Shepard's body becomes clean, she pitches and USA wins. Or Amelia fails and it all caves in. Shepard, Hahn, Torres… even Arizona might end up going down with the ship. And for what? The possibility of a hunk of metal? No… that's not why Arizona kept her mouth shut. The reason the surgeon didn't go straight to Webber just so happens to join the tight circle next to the bus, long raven locks blowing in the slight breeze. Even now, this early in the morning and having virtually no time to wake up, Callie Torres looks miraculous.

Dark brown eyes survey the gather group of her team mates and she finds she is one short. Callie is sure Arizona had gone before her, and was sure she saw the blonde head outside immediately after signing her release form. Pretending to be paying attention to whatever complaining Charlotte King is doing about being up so early, the captain searches the empty parking lot. When a puff of smoke arises from a shadowed corner against the athletic complex, a pang of guilt hits her square in the chest.

* * *

"Let's see… C10." Callie murmurs to herself, selecting the corresponding letter and number on the vending machine outside the rest stop Team USA is currently parked at. The metal coil springs to life and pushes the bag of gummy worms closer and closer to the lip. It's a small offer, miniscule compared to what Arizona has been through not just during the past week, but the past six months. But when dark eyes fell on the pack of sweets, she just had to get them for her pitcher.

But the treat stops just at the edge, tipping over but never falling. "What?" The Latina growls, then slaps the glass. "Oh come on. ….Come on." Strong arms shake the machine but the bag of gummies doesn't move. "Damn it!"

"Woah… easy Torres." Sloan drawls, stepping up next to his catcher.

"No, Mark! I paid for a bag of gummy worms, I want the damned bag of gummy worms!" The captain hisses, then starts to rock the machine harder.

"What's going on with you, Cal?" The coach asks, taking in the very haggard and stressed appearance of his best, as well as favorite, player.

"Why does something have to be 'going on'?" The catcher snaps, moving to the side of the machine and trying to shake it from a different angle.

"You're assaulting a vending machine, Torres." Mark states, and brown eyes lock with blue grey. Over the past few years, Callie and Mark have become closer than just player and coach. Despite all the mumblings about Sloan being one gigantic manwhore, he is actually a pretty decent friend. It only took the man about six months to figure out Callie wasn't going to sleep with him, but once he got the message, their friendship blossomed. And now the coach can sense something is up with Torres, what with her beating the crap out of a metal box for a pack of gummy worms, which Mark is sure Callie has never eaten before, and the coldness between her and Robbins, but doesn't understand why she just won't tell him.

A very animalistic noise comes deep from within the Latina and Callie bangs her head into the machine out of frustration. "Perfect. Why not? Why would this work for me… Karma is a dirty bitch." She grumbles to herself.

Mark, taking pity on his friend, tugs the catcher clear and gives the vending machine a strong shove, pushing it up onto two legs and letting it drop. The rattling and vibration is enough to knock the gummy worms loose, falling into the trough from which Sloan retrieves it.

"What are you, Fonzie or something?" Callie sneers, snatching the bag from her coach's hand. Realization hits her and she takes a deep breath. "Sorry… I'm just so tense. What with practice and the team and… other stuff."

"We've been working hard, Cal. We're ready. You'll do fine." Sloan replies, very confident in his pitchers and catchers. At least he was until the latest Robbins/Torres appearance on the field yesterday. Since then he's not feeling so confident.

Shaking her head, Callie shoots out "I can't do fine. I have to do great. I'm a Torres." And the Torres name carries a heavy load, one that Callie has been stuck with since birth. …One of the downfalls of having a father like Carlos Torres, good is never enough. Not when you can do better.

Shaggy brows furrow, and Mark leans in an imperceptible amount, making Callie lean the other direction. "Are you… getting any?"

"You just ask me if I'm getting any?" Torres asks in disbelief.

"When was the last time?" Sloan questions, like the topic of the Latina's sex life is just an everyday conversation between them. And it usually is, Callie is not a shy person in that sense but she doesn't feel like talking about it right now with the whole… _situation _going on.

"…That's none of your business." Callie says, shaking her head slightly.

Mark shrugs his shoulder and a sly smirk crosses his lips. "Just tell me, I won't judge."

The catcher is _not _having _this_ conversation with _this _man. "I am focused. There's no time." She spits, then sidesteps her coach and heads back to the bus that is just revving to life.

Mark isn't sure what a brain aneurism feels like, but he can only guess that's he's having one at this exact moment. After a couple of dumbfounded seconds, he turns to his retreating player and yells "There's always time!"

* * *

At just after 7 pm, Team USA spills out of their tour bus and herds into their last hotel of the trip. Nearly 12 hours on the road, 12 hours since their surprise drug test, they have finally made it to the end of their tour. There is still about a week until they fly overseas, but Miami is their last pit stop. From here they will play a plethora of teams from various schools and clubs throughout Florida, as well as do all the last minute publicity and photo shoots required of them. The fact that Miami is the most alive city they've stayed in yet is just a plus.

"Alright ladies, I want you down here dress in you red and blue's tomorrow morning by 9:30." Webber announces as Derek Shepard is just finishing up with the hotel receptionist. "Double header tomorrow, and I want plenty of time to warm you up. So… what time?"

A chorus of "9:30" fills the lobby, which makes Richard Webber smile and nod. Soon, names are being called off and pairs of players head to their rooms to get settled. Arizona waits, her jaw clenching every time her name isn't called, watching as another safe choice heads off with a different roommate.

"Altman, Montgomery." Derek calls, and both Teddy and Addison step forward to grab their keys, leaving only two players left. The duo exchanged a smirk, then look to both Callie and Arizona who are standing as far apart as possible within the lobby.

"This should be interesting." Teddy whispers to the tall redhead as the elevator doors open for them.

"You said it." Addison agrees, and the doors close, leaving just the four coaches and a feuding Torres and Robbins left. Blue eyes chance a glance to the Latina at the other side of the room and lock with deep chocolate.

"Torres and Robbins. Come on." Shepard says, holding out the last two cards.

"I'm not rooming with her." Arizona sneers.

"Robbins." Sloan snaps, his arms folded tightly over his chest as he assumes his alpha male pose.

"I'm not." The blonde states. Usually Arizona would never argue with someone of a higher authority, but the surgeon is standing her ground. Authority issues or not.

Callie, not wanting to put her pitcher in any more discomfort, weakly says "Mark, it's ok… I'll switch with-"

"No." Coach Sloan cuts the Latina off. "You two are rooming together and you are going to work out whatever it is that is going on. Not a week ago you and Robbins were on fire, and now it's like the Arctic Ocean between you." Mark explains while Derek, Owen and Richard all back him, nodding slowly at every word. "I don't care what it takes, but you ladies need to kiss and make up." Blue eyes roll in their socket and Callie mumbles something unintelligible under her breath. This is not what Torres or Robbins wants. …Ok, so maybe it is what Callie wants. The opportunity to spend some private time with the blonde but not if Arizona is itching to get away from her, that won't do anybody any good.

"We have six days until we fly out. And only two weeks until the Games start." Richard steps in when he sees his players are less than happy about this arrangement. Turning his gaze to the sulking blonde, Webber says "Whether you like it or not, Torres is your teammate, your catcher and your captain. You don't have to be best friends off the field, but when you're wearing that USA jersey I _expect _you to have each other's back." Looking between Arizona and Callie, he adds "That goes for _both_ of you. I don't know what happened, nor do I care to. But I expect you two to pull your heads out of whatever orifice they are stuck in and get back on the same team."

Fair hands clench into fist and Arizona cracks her neck out of stress and aggravation. She should tell him, tell Webber everything. Let it all go and not give a damn about the team or their chances in London. But one look at the beaten and guilty look etched deeply on Callie's face is enough to dampen the blonde's fight. So with a strangled sigh, Robbins snatches one of the two remaining keys from her coach's hand and turns to find their room. Callie watches Arizona go, not really wanting to follow but knowing that she needs to. With a tight smile to her coaches, the Latina grabs her key and retraces Arizona's trail while silently praying that this last week isn't going to be half as bad as she thinks it will be.

* * *

A heavy duffel bag is dropped on the furthest of two mattresses. The air is thick with tension and Callie's brow breaks into a slight sweat as she sets her own bag down on the bed closest to the bathroom and hotel room door. Their entire trip up the elevator and down the hallway was filled with Arizona muttering to herself, blonde locks waving as the pitcher shakes her head in response to unasked questions, and longing looks from the Latina.

"Look…" Callie blurts out when all she's seen of the blonde is her back for five minutes. "…I'm sorry that this is so hard for you, ok? I didn't want this to happen, Arizona."

"And I didn't want a lot of things to happen, Calliope. But guess what? They happened." Arizona growls in response, slamming closed a dresser drawer as she starts to unpack her clothes. Blue eyes whip around and land on the woman who used to occupy every corner of her mind, the woman that Arizona couldn't help but daydream about. But so much has changed in so little time, and even though it was Callie who uttered the words, Arizona knows deep down they weren't hers. Robbins firmly believes that Calliope Torres is a good woman, not someone who would willingly cover up this drug scandal that has happened. She just wishes Callie would show her true strength of character and stand up to Hahn and Shepard, be the leader Arizona knows the catcher is. But every day that passes where nothing is said, where the truth remains buried, is another reminder to Arizona that she shouldn't expect anything from anyone else. All that you really have in this life is yourself, and it sucks.

The tired blonde sits on the edge of her bed, her head hung in her hands. All those memories come flooding back to her, all the hurt and the pain, the yelling and crying. It all comes back, those walls she built over the months having been smashed to the ground by the woman standing in their room, staring at her.

"Things don't go the way we want them to. …Ever." Arizona whispers, and the pain in her words washes over Callie. Shaking herself, Arizona grabs her contraband from its hiding spot in her bag and stands. "I need some air." She mumbles, then slips out of the room in search of some privacy leaving a very sick Callie alone in the room.

* * *

Amelia grips the lip of the sink in her hotel room, trying to push down the pain and nausea that is filling her body. The high pitched squeaking of April Kepner, her roommate for this leg of the trip, isn't helping matters. Twelve hours of anxiety is clearly showing on her already pale face, and the need for another score has tripled. But Shepard doesn't need the drugs, she's stronger than that. So instead she starts to unpack her toiletries. As she reaches across the tub, her bag slips from her hands and falls, her items spilling out into the shower.

"Damn it." The pitcher growls, then stoops down to pick everything up. That's when she sees them, two tiny blue pills contrasting completely with the eggshell white backdrop. Taunting her, harassing her. She doesn't know how they got out of the pill bottle, or how Erica missed them, but there they are. Just waiting to be swallowed. Sweet relief.

A shaky hand picks them up and holds them in front of her eyes. Her body tingles in anticipation and need. Five days without a hit, and it feels like her skin is crawling. But these little candies could end all the discomfort. Who would know? She's gotten past everyone of her teammates for months, and just took a drug test. If it turns up clean, there won't be another for a while. And if it turns up positive, well… she's already done. What's the harm?

Before Amelia Shepard realizes it, she is swallowing the last two pills of her stash and urging for the miraculous drugs to take effect immediately. Minutes pass and with each second the ticks by the sweet cloud of numbness fills her mind and covers her body. Sweet relief. Just one more time. What's the harm?

* * *

The spark of a lighter followed by the faint glow of a tiny flame eases Arizona's tension before the pungent smoke fills her lungs. The muggy Miami air surrounds her, the low drum of the city life all around fills her ears. The night sky stretched out before her as the blonde is seated on the top of Team USA's tour bus. When she left her room, she needed privacy, a place to go t be alone. Stepping out of the hotel, the glint of polished paint in the darkest corner of the deserted parking lot caught her attention. It just called to her, so now here she sits, her legs pulled up to her chest as a lit cigarette dangles from her right hand.

Her mind is so far away from this place that when something hits the siding of the bus, the blonde nearly falls off out of shock. "What the hell? !" She yelps, only to be greeted with the distinctive laugh of Addison Montgomery and Teddy Altman.

"What up?" The first baseman asks as she hauls herself up the tiny ladder and joins Robbins on top.

"What are you doing here?" Arizona asks, looking between the other blonde and the redhead also climbing up the ladder.

"We could ask you the same." Addison rebuttals, and takes a seat on the opposite side of the pitcher. "…We saw you from our room, thought we'd join you." The redhead adds.

"Thanks, but I'm not really in the mood for company." The surgeon states, taking a deep inhale from her cigarette and expelling the smoke from her lungs.

Teddy leans forward a bit to catch the redhead's eye on the other side of the moping blonde, and sighs. "I'm sorry about your brother." She whispers, Addison nodding solemnly. Robbins brow furrows in confusion on how her friend could have found out, because Arizona _knows _she didn't tell anyone besides…

"Callie told me." Teddy answers her unasked question.

"Of course she did." Arizona murmurs, turning her gaze back to the far off moon. The three sit in silence for a while, Teddy and Addison just wanting Arizona to know that they are there for her even if she doesn't want to talk about it. But as her memories play through her mind, a smile pulls at thin pink lips.

"He was a Marine. …An amazing guy. The best. …He was my best friend." The surgeons says in nothing but a whisper while her two friends listen, not wanting to interrupt. "The only friend I had most of the time. Growing up in the military, you move around a lot. We never stayed anywhere long enough to really get to know people, let alone other kids." Teddy nods in understanding, having been through much of the same, even if she didn't move as often as the Robbins did. "Sometimes I still don't believe he is gone. It doesn't feel real. …My world doesn't seem real without Tim." A tear forms and streaks down her cheeks but Arizona doesn't wipe it away. What's one more fallen tear when she's already cried an ocean of them?

"He wrote me letters. As often as he could, and I'd write him back. …The last letter he wrote, the day before…" Arizona's throat constricts with emotion and both Addison and Teddy wipe at their teary eyes. "He told me that when he could, he'd sit out on the hood of his humvee and look up at the moon. He said that over there, that place seemed like a whole different world than here. The only thing that was the same was the moon. The darkness and the moon were the things the reminded him that he still has a home, and a family. …A life outside of that place." And right now Arizona wishes that the lights of Miami were shut off city wide, allowing the vast darkness to completely descend upon the land so all the brilliance of the universe could be seen. …Like the skies in Iraq, completely black and brilliant, littered with more stars than you can count.

"'If people sat outside and looked at the stars each night, I bet they would live a lot differently.' ….That was the last sentence he ever wrote." Arizona whispers, a steady stream of tears falling down her face, her cigarette long since burnt out and flicked off the side of the bus. "So… whenever I miss him, or feel like I've lost control… I stare up at the moon and the stars, because I know he's doing the same. …And it helps."

* * *

Curtains drop back into place and Callie stands from her perch on the windowsill. She's been watching Arizona for the past ten minutes, both when she was by herself and when Addison and Teddy joined her. The Latina wants so much to be able to be the one to comfort the blonde, but now she feels that she is the reason Arizona needs to be comforted. It's all too much. The guilt and the stress, the look of hurt in those blue eyes. They should be light and bright with life and happiness, not dark and dull with pain and disappointment.

Callie is a leader, born to be warrior who leads her troops into battle with confidence and strength. But now it feels like she's losing everything. Amelia. Erica. …Arizona. Her life has somehow slipped through her fingers. And she doesn't know how she can fix it, if she even can. Maybe the damage has already been done. Maybe Arizona is so broken that all the glue and the tape and the gum in the world can't patch her up. Callie wouldn't blame her, not in the least. And her team? It's slowly disintegrating around her. Someone has pulled the thread and now everything is unraveling, more and more as the thread is pulled further and further away.

Torres takes a seat on Arizona's bed, her eyes finding the notebook full of the surgeon's neat and tight handwriting. Arizona's bible, in essence. Tanned fingers flip the front cover and dark eyes land on a drawing. Or doodle. Whatever it is, it took a long time because it's beautiful. And the message rattles Callie's core. There, written on the front page with beautiful embellishments around the script, are the words 'The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy'. And then… just like that, Callie's body lightens. A weight lifts. She knows what she has to do, even if it's too late to win Arizona back, the Latina has to do the right thing even if that means she, herself, ends up losing in the end.

Gently shutting the notebook and placing it back on the bed, Callie rises to her feet with renewed resolve. There is no question left in her mind, and she knows she's doing the right thing because of it. The captain doesn't remember leaving the hotel room, or walking the hallway, or even entering the elevator. The next thing she knows she is standing in front of Coach Webber's hotel room door. And even though she could be ending whatever chance she has at winning a gold medal, the dream the catcher has had since high school, Callie isn't anxious, or nervous. Or even fearful.

A strong, confident knock, and then the door opens, Richard Webber on the other side still in his polo and khakis. "Torres…" He greets with a brilliant smile. "What can I do for you?"

There should be a million thoughts flying through her mind, her stomach should be doing barrel rolls. Her knees should be knocking and her hands should be shaking. But they're not. Because this is the most sure thing the Latina has done in her life. "Sir… I need to tell you something."

* * *

AN2: …So? How's it all going to play out? Let me know what ya'll think! And again, you guys are amazing. Seriously.


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: You guys are pretty fricken awesome! Just had to say that first. Ok, now time for some goodness. Read and enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 19

Team USA wakes up in the morning to a mass text from Coach Webber that they are to meet in his room at 830, dressed and ready to go. When Arizona returned to her room last night, her roommate was gone. The blonde didn't give it a second thought figuring that Callie must have been with Erica or Amelia, conspiring their next illegal act together. When her catcher finally did return, the blonde never rolled over and looked at the Latina, and Arizona never saw Torres's tear stricken face.

The two players got ready silently in the morning, Arizona showering and changing in the restroom quickly before vacating it and letting Callie in. When the Latina walks back out of the shower, hair damp but uniform not worn, the blonde knows something is up. She knew something was up when she read the text, but now that her catcher is not in their colors, the surgeon's mind starts to spin.

They leave the room in silence, Torres's head hung while Arizona walks ahead of her, and they both head up to the head coaches room. Rounding the corner, blue eyes find the rest of her team filing into Webber's hotel room, a certain brunette pitcher also not wearing her uniform.

Just down the hall from their target, Arizona grabs Callie by the wrist and pulls her into the ice machine alcove, out of line of sight from Richards room and the few stragglers still showing up. "What did you do?"Arizona asks point blank. Dark eyes just stare into blue, Callie trying to show the blonde how sorry she is. "Torres, what the hell is going on?" The blonde tries again when her captain doesn't answer. "What did you do?"

"What I should have done all along." The Latina answers, then leaves her pitcher staring at a noisy ice machine and joins the rest of her team. Nineteen pairs of eyes look up when Arizona follows Callie in, the blonde being the last one to arrive.

"What's all this about?" Lexie Grey asks, her nervous energy transferring to her fingers that are tapping out some form of beat on the coffee table surface.

"Torres, Shepard." Webber says. "Please…" Callie nods and stands, solemnly walking across the room and exiting the hotel room, followed by Amelia. Turning back to the rest of his team, but head man in charge states "It pains me to say that… Both Callie Torres and Amelia Shepard are no longer members of this team."

"What? !" More than one exclaim at the same time, every player's face dropping and the three coach's looks hardening. Derek looks like he could punch a baby and Sloan's teeth grind as he thinks about losing two of his girls. Yang, Grey, King, and Montgomery all find their way to their feet, each yelling louder over the other to get their objections heard. The rest grumble and curse in time. Everyone except Erica and Arizona. The lone captain left hangs her head in her hands and Arizona sits in shock.

"Settle down… Enough!" Richard yells over his team, making most of them jump and all of them stop. "If you give me a minute, I will explain what has happened. You all deserve an explanation." This seems to placate his girls and all the players retake their seats. Richard pulls up a chair and lowers himself down into it. "It was brought to my attention last night that… a member of this team has been struggling with a personal problem. Something that could get both her, and this team, into a lot of trouble later on down the line. So… I gave her a choice. Either step down, or wait until her drug test came back."

"Callie was on drugs?" April asks in her high pitched squeak.

"No you moron, Shep was the one getting high." Addison snaps back, all the little clues finally connecting in her mind. "Damn it Amelia…" The redhead growls, then looks back up at Webber. "Why Callie?"

"She told me that it was her idea to cover up Shepard's problem." Richard answers. Arizona's eyes dart to the blonde just five feet away from her, and meets Erica Hahn's gaze. "Torres was involved in this. She knew. She didn't say anything. She put this team at risk in hopes of beating the system. …And she didn't fight me when I told her I wouldn't have her on this team anymore." Glacial blue eyes are locked with steel blue eyes, and Arizona's jaw clenches. Another person, maybe not completely innocent but still not deserving, is hurt because of Amelia Shepard's selfishness.

A wave of guilt floods Hahn and it makes it difficult for her to breathe. But if Callie was going to rat out Amelia, why didn't the Latina rat out Erica. It was the blonde's idea to let the issue slide, to cover it up. To wait for the drug test in hopes that the pitcher could be clean by then. Why didn't Callie spill?

"So… now what?" Charlotte asks, breaking the silence that has filled the air. "We can't go into the Games down two."

"I've already started the process of finding two alternates but for now, we play two light." Richard explains, meeting the gaze of anyone not staring holes into the carpet. "It sucks. I know that. This situation sucks, but we have to make the best of it. …Shepard and Torres will be packing their bags and flying back home, where ever home is for them, and we will be going on to London."

"I can't believe Callie did this…" Teddy whispers, the first baseman seated right next to Robbins.

"She didn't." Arizona whispers back, sending a pointed glare to the blonde who is suppose to be the team's captain but has done nothing to show her worth in that position to Arizona since the day the newcomer arrived. "This is so messed up…"

"Alternates, like… tryouts again?" Canner asks, wanting to know how her coaches will find not one, but two new players for the team in under a week. Not just getting them cleared, but getting them worked in with the rest of the women. It's all about team chemistry, and it's very delicate.

"We still have names from everyone who has tried out, and the coaches and I will do our best to pick the best available." Webber explains very carefully. He is well aware of how treacherous it is being in the middle of twelve pissed off women. This whole thing has blindsided him and he is still reeling from all of this, but he has to work fast. Cut the problem from the team in hopes of keeping any backlash away from the rest of the girls. After all, showing up and playing in the Olympics is his job, it's what he's committed the last thirty some odd years of his life doing.

Silence descends upon the room, each person going through their own processing. Some are shocked, some light bulbs finally click, some chastise themselves for not putting it together sooner. And Arizona? She's enraged. Not only has Amelia used and abused her, but now Callie is being punished for the addict's choices. Sure… the Latina should have turned her player in as soon as the captain found out, but to be cut from the team when she willingly came forward? To let Erica go free? It's not right. It's not. And all Robbins can think is how it should be Erica who will be going home with Amelia, not Callie. Not her catcher. _Her_ catcher. They are a team, and now… nothing. Arizona is stuck with Hahn… again.

"I know no one is happy right now, and I completely understand that…" Richard breaks the silence. "But you are still Team USA. You have the American flag on your chests, and you will continue to uphold the values and ideals that come with those colors. This is going to be hard, but the hard makes it great." One by one, gazes fall back onto the older gentleman, their coach that they all hold in the utmost respect. "We will come together as a team and fight through this challenge, and we will come out the other side stronger for it."

* * *

Callie Torres sits down the hall from Richard Webber's hotel room, her eyes glued to the wall opposite her as her ears pick up the slightest sound of raised voices from her team. Right now her coach is letting her team know that she screwed up, that she is no longer part of the team Callie helped build. She nurtured it, watched it grow, was there from the very beginning. And now she's done. Cut off like a piece of rotten meat threatening to infect the rest of Team USA.

"I don't get it…" A solemn voice whispers, and dark eyes slowly glance beside her. There, seated four feet from the captain, is the reason why everything is so messed up. "Why now?" Amelia asks, not meeting the catchers eyes. "Another twelve hours and the drug tests would have come back…"

But Callie doesn't answer her, because Amelia doesn't deserve an answer. The reason the Latina finally stepped up, did what she should have done the second she saw that pill bottle, is because she couldn't live with herself if she didn't tell. What would that gold medal be worth if it was all won on a lie? …And now, it seems she's lost her chance at one anyways. But that's ok, because her team still has the possibility of making it. And that's all she wants, for her team to be the best they can be and go into a world competition like the champions they are. Even if it means leaving the infected few behind.

The door opens and Webber pops his head out. Both Callie and Amelia turn and stand when they are summoned in. Suddenly, Callie starts to shake. Nerves that weren't present during her talk with Richard or when confronting Amelia are racing through her body now. Her hands tremble at the thought of standing in front of her team and feeling their disappoint in her seep into her soul.

Shepard and Torres enter the, now, eerily silent room, all eyes on them. All, save for one. The one set Callie really wants to see. But Arizona won't look up, she's afraid that if she looks up and sees Callie, she will break.

"Does anyone have anything they'd like to say?" Webber asks softly.

"I think we've heard all we really need to hear." Charlotte sneers, her eyes boring holes into Amelia. With that, the short blonde stands and leaves the room at an angry pace. Miranda shakes her head, not believing that this has happened to her team, and follows in King's wake. Then another leaves, and another, and another. No one says anything to the two exiles. And that, more than anything, hurts Callie the most.

* * *

"Come on, load it up girls!" Hunt yells over the rumble of the bus engine. What use to be fourteen is now twelve women climbing the steep stairs and finding their seats in the plush tour bus. Everyone is morose, the news of Amelia's drug problem and Callie's attempt to cover it up only an hour old, and no one feels like playing. But it's their job, this is what they are here to do, so the show must go on.

Owen does a quick head count, down three with Callie, Amelia, and Webber, and then tells the driver they are ready to go. The bus kicks to life and starts to roll out of the parking lot when Arizona shoots out of her seat. "Wait! Stop." She calls, racing up the aisle. "I forgot my batting gloves." The blonde says, and gets a tight smile from her coach.

"Be quick." Hunt tells her. Robbins jumps from the bus and runs into the hotel. Scaling stairs two at a time, she reaches her hotel room and finds Callie's side empty. The Latina's duffle bag is gone and her toiletries are nowhere to be seen. Another wave of sadness and anger fills the pitcher. This is not what she wanted. Arizona wanted Callie to come clean, but not be kicked from the team. That does _no one _any good. Now, not only is Team USA down an extraordinary pitcher, but also the best catcher and captain they could ever have.

Moving through the half vacant room, the pitcher finds her blue batting gloves and fists them in her hands. Tears prickle behind cerulean eyes and her upper lip quivers. Needing just one second to compose herself before facing her team again, Arizona perches herself on the edge of her unmade bed. A sound of plastic crinkling makes her pause, and looking at the head of the bed, propped against her pillow, is a package of gummy worms.

The blonde picks the goodbye gift up carefully, like it might break. All those silly little talks Callie and Arizona had at the back of the bus, the innocent and not so innocent flirting, the stolen kisses… they all flash through the pitchers mind. And then those memories circle back to why their team is where they are at now. Whatever Arizona might have had with Callie is lost, all because of one woman's inability to control herself.

The tour bus's horn blows, causing Arizona to jump out of her daydreaming. Wiping the wetness that has streaked down her cheeks, the blonde stands and heads for the hotel room door but stops when her hand finds the cool metal handle. Her eyes fall to the gummies, the goodbye present, I'm sorry present, please forgive me present, that Callie left her. No words, no lasting embrace… nothing except a package of sugary treats and not enough happy memories. So with a sigh, Arizona drops the gift into the trashcan, and leaves.

* * *

"Torres, can you go downstairs and wait for me? I'd like to talk with Shepard alone for a minute." Richard Webber asks after going over what will happen with his two disbanded team members.

"Yes, sir." Callie mumbles, then stands and grabs her packed duffel bag, sans uniforms, and exits Richard's room. The walk to the elevator is slow and heavy, almost like the last walk a prisoner takes to the death chamber. She wants to cry, to mourn the loss of her dream and all the work that had gone into it, but she doesn't. Because this was her fault, she should have done the right thing from the beginning. Callie has made her bed, now she is going to lie in it.

The elevator dings, announcing the arrival of a carriage. The ex-captain steps into it and selects the ground floor, dark eyes dropping to the ugly patterned carpet below her. Silver doors close and Torres starts to descend, only for the elevator to stop at the next floor down. She looks up just in time to see the doors part and beautiful blue eyes stare back at her.

Arizona falters when she sees Callie standing there, her duffel bag hung from a limp shoulder and chocolate eyes tinted red from unshed tears. The blonde offers the Latina a soft smile before stepping into the carriage, uttering a breathless "Hey" before turning her back to Callie.

"Hey…" Torres replies, that one word sticking in her throat and renewing the wave of tears Callie is trying to keep bottled up inside her. The doors close and Arizona takes a deep breath, trying to steady her shaking hands. Dark eyes stare at the pitchers back, wishing and praying that Arizona will turn and face her. She wants to say a thousand things, she wants to apologize… for everything. For the drug thing, her brother, her failed test, her divorced parents, her lame ass girlfriend bailing on her. But mostly, Callie wants to apologize for hurting Arizona so much, for making the blonde think that all the Latina wanted was to use her.

All those words fly through her mind, a ragged sigh falls from plump lips, but all Callie can do is whisper "Arizona…" The damn breaks and Arizona gives in, spinning around and pushing the Latina against the back wall of the elevator. Their lips find each others and they share a kiss of pain and hurt and passion. All the things both woman want to say, all the feelings that can't be put into words are heard through that kiss.

The blonde pulls away first, blue eyes gazing up into the warmth of deep brown pools, searching for an answer. A way to fix all of this. But she doesn't know how. A fair forehead rests against Callie's in defeat, the pitcher's nose nuzzling Callie's. The Latina wants more, she needs something to make all this worth it, and leans forward to take pink lips with hers again but the elevator doors open and before she knows it, Arizona is walking away from her. And the Latina is afraid the blonde just walked out of her life for good.

* * *

Arizona Robbins comes storming off the mound after finally getting their third out by King fielding a soft grounder to short and firing it to first. USA is one inning away from completing their first game of the day and they are… losing. Actually losing. The best players in the nation forming what is, arguably, the best and most powerful team in the world… is losing. Everyone is off, and everyone is on edge.

Erica remains as the only captain of her team and she can feel herself losing her grip on the reins. Maybe it is the guilt of Callie taking the entire punishment, or the guilt of not standing up and saying 'I was part of it too', but she is sure everyone knows the truth. And now she is paranoid. Add that with the fact that she is catching for a certain pissed off blonde and everything is going to hell.

"Try throwing the pitches I call for you." Hahn sneers while removing her chest guard and shin guards.

Blue eyes harden and Robbins' death glare turns to the captain. "Are you talking to me?" She asks, not believing that _this _woman, of all the people on this team, is giving Arizona shit.

Turning and looking down at her pitcher seated on the team's bench, Erica replies "You're the only one throwing crap out there. So yeah, I'm talking to you."

The shorter blonde bolts to her feet and closes the small distance that was between them until their chest's touch. "You really think pissing _me _off is the best thing for you to do right now, Hahn?" Arizona growls, not caring about the height difference between her and her nemesis. The two women now have the attention of the entire USA bench, and ten other pairs of eyes watch as the last remaining two of the fantastic four size each other up.

"Your job is to pitch." Erica replies, her tone low and gravelly. "So I suggest you do it."

"My job, huh? My job is to pitch?" Arizona asks sarcastically. "So what's your job? Let your team mate take the fall for _your _screw ups?" The pitcher snaps, and Erica gets knocked back by a strong shove. The rest of the team is off their butts in a second, grabbing the heated blondes and pulling them away from each other.

"It should be you!" Arizona yells, both Teddy and Addison taking a strong hold on her arms and shoulders to attempt to hold her back.

"She made her choice!" Erica shouts back, that vein in her forehead popping from the effort of trying to break loose of her teammates hold on her.

"What the _hell _is going on?" The deep booming voice of Richard Webber filling the air. Starring into his dugout he sees his team separated, one half holding a fiery pitcher back, and the other half holding a pissed off catcher back. The coach is not happy, to say the least. Not only has he lost two of his best players, but he appears at the field just in time to see his team brawling like they were in the middle of a bar.

But when all that is given is silence, he asks again "What is going on?" The players slowly let go of the battling duo, Arizona straighten out her wrinkled jersey and Erica running a hand through messy helmet hair. Blue eyes turn to blue eyes and they both make silent threats.

"Fine, don't tell me." Richard says. "…Laps."

"What?" Arizona asks in shock.

"Laps! Now." Webber barks, giving his newest player a look that tells Arizona not to question him. With one last dirty look to the catcher, Arizona throws down her glove and takes off around the outside of the ball diamond.

Watching Arizona go, Richard turns back to his last remaining captain and adds "You too." Hahn snarls at her coach, teeth grinding in frustration but she doesn't say anything. Instead, she rips off her last remaining shin guard and takes off at a jog.

Team USA is silent, no one wanting to incur the wrath of a pissed off Richard Webber. "Anyone else?" Their head coach barks, making everyone jump. "Anyone else want to join Robbins and Hahn?" Ten heads shake back and forth. "No? Good. We got a game to play." Webber says, anger in his voice. With that, he turns his back on the running pair, silently praying that his team can overcome this latest hurdle. But something tells him that it's going to be hard fight, one that USA may not be able to beat.

* * *

The women sit in silence as the bus stops at the entrance to their hotel. Two games… two losses. Not a very good day. Even worse considering that the team they played barely made national ranking, and in just five days time they will be leaving the states and flying to London to compete against the best in the world.

Webber contemplates on saying something; either chew their asses out for performing so badly or give them a pep talk in hopes of shaking the funk out, but decides on neither. Instead, he says "Downstairs tomorrow morning, 9:30." With that, the team files off the bus. Arizona is the last to leave, having retaken her seat at the back of the bus to either distance herself from the rest of her team or be just alittle bit closer to what use to be Callie's area, she doesn't know.

When she steps off the bus, her legs stop working. Both Teddy and Addison are waiting at the doors, waving her to hurry up, but the blonde is stuck.

"You alright, Robbins?" Hunt asks as he steps off the bus behind the pitcher, followed by the other three coaches.

"No." Arizona answers quietly. Turning to face the four men who she has earned a great amount of respect for, she says louder. "No, I'm not." Mark exchanges a worried look with his head coach, but neither have an opportunity to reply because Arizona continues. "Nothing is _ok._ We _sucked_ today. And Arizona Robbins does _not _suck."

Webber holds up a hand in hopes of placating the upset woman. "I know it was a rough day but it will get better. We'll-"

"How will 'it get better'?" Arizona cuts the head coach off. "Where in the world are you ever going to find another player like Callie? …Nowhere. She's one of a kind. You know. I know. We all know it." Addison and Teddy slowly make their way forward having heard their friend's raised voice and thinking Arizona might need some back up.

With a sigh that was supposed to be calming, but failing miserably, Arizona adds "I can't… I can't work with Hahn. I can't. I have no respect for that woman. Not when she let Callie take the fall for what _Hahn _did. Torres wanted to tell you about Shepard, she did. But it was Erica that told her to keep her mouth shut. Betcha Callie didn't tell you that part, did she?" Four sets of eyes go wide as the coaches absorb this little fact. "Yeah… and I knew about the whole thing too. It was my prescription pad Amelia stole that got her the drugs. I knew, and I shut my mouth too. So… if you cut Callie for covering this mess up, might as well cut me too. Add a third place to those alternate spots you need to fill. Because…" A laugh, of all things, falls from trembling lips. "Because if Callie isn't behind the plate, I'm not pitching."

"Robbins, you need to stop and-" Mark starts, very afraid that he is about to lose yet another player. That would leave him with just one real catcher, and no ace pitchers. And… that would pretty much mean that USA is done.

"No." Arizona snaps. "No, I don't need to stop. You want me to pitch? You need to bring Torres back. That's the deal."

"This isn't up for negotiation, Robbins." Webber states, taking an imposing step forward.

But the blonde doesn't back down. "I think it is. Because Callie is _my _catcher. You said that. 'Whether we like it or not.' You said that. I have her back like she had mine. She could have sold my ass down the river right along with hers but she didn't. …Because we are a team. She has my back, I have hers. That is how this works. She is _my _partner and I will not pitch if she is not the one catching. Torres… made a mistake. By her willingly stepping down shows that she knows that. But don't punish her for Shepard's mistake. It's not fair. It's not right." Arizona doesn't remember yelling, but somehow her chest is heaving and her breathing is ragged.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she adds "You wondered what happened between us, well… now you know. But she is still my teammate, my captain. And I want her back. Either make that happen or… you need to find another pitcher." Blue eyes sweep from coach to coach, waiting for someone to say something. But no one does, so the blonde grabs her bag and throws it over her shoulder then turns and walks away. Arizona said what she had to say, she told the whole story. She admitted Hahn's involvement, even her own involvement. She laid it all out on the line. What her coaches do is up to them.

* * *

"Are you serious?" Teddy asks, leaning across the table at the slouching blonde in a cushy restaurant booth. Arizona just told both Addison and Altman the whole story, leaving not a single detail out. …Well, she left out the 'kissing' parts because, one, it wasn't their business, and two, Arizona herself didn't exactly know what it all meant… not anymore.

"I should have known. ..I mean, I knew something was going on but…" Addison sighs, hanging her head in her hands. The guilt that all of this is happening because of her sister in law, or ex-sister in law, is making the redhead sick. Addison noticed the younger Shepard had been… different lately, but she was too busy sneaking around and screwing Derek to bother. And then Addison was too busy NOT screwing Derek to bother.

"Addicts are… tricky." Arizona sighs, blaming herself more than anyone right now. The surgeon noticed the signs, saw the gauntness, paleness and blood shot eyes. But the blonde was too worried about fitting into the team to cause any waves. If she had just… said something, her team wouldn't be in this mess. And Callie would still be her catcher.

"They hide it. And they are good at hiding it. You have to be looking for a problem to see it, Addison." The blonde adds, not wanting to spread blame and guilt to those who don't deserve it, Montgomery and Altman included.

"And Erica didn't say a damn word the entire time." Teddy says, shaking her head in disbelief. "What is wrong with that woman?"

"She's the world's only living heart donor." The pitcher answers, making both of her dinner mate's laugh out loud in the small and comfortable restaurant. It's been a couple hours since USA came back from the double losing double header and both Teddy and Addison had to pull the blonde out of her half empty room. They said it wasn't good for Arizona to just sit and sulk, so they dragged her to dinner at a cozy place just a block from the hotel. Not only is the food great, but it also gives them a chance to talk freely without any team mates or coaches listening through the thin room walls or pushing an ear up against a door.

"Think Webber is going to talk to her?" The first baseman asks.

"Couldn't care less." Arizona sighs, blue eyes turning out to the setting sun visible through the large paned windows that make up the front wall of the restaurant.

"Do you love her?" Addison asks in a whisper, making Arizona snap back to the redhead across from her.

"Excuse me?" The blonde bristles.

"You heard me." The taller woman says with a knowing smirk. Robbins' flounders, her brain having short circuited at the unexpected question. "Fine… forget I asked." Montgomery sighs, holding up her hands in defeat. "Even though I think I already know the answer." She adds, making Arizona's jaw clench in frustration.

In truth, the blonde doesn't know what her feelings are towards the Latina. Everything is so complicated and confusing. There are definitely feelings… good feelings. But there is also hurt, and disappointment, and anger. How do you separate those feelings? Weigh one against the other. How does someone stack happiness up against the feeling of pain. Which one wins? Is there some sort of ruler or scale, a unit of measure to put it all in some semblance of order? If there isn't someone should make one. A sort of… rule book for intimacy. It would make everything so much easier.

* * *

The trio spend hours in that restaurant, leaving only when no one could eat or drink anymore. They stumbled back to the hotel with bloated bellies, but feeling much lighter after having let all their problems out once and for all. A few teammates were littered around the lobby, doing their own thing, when they pass through. But no one pays any mind to them, and the one person all three wish they could get their hands on is nowhere in sight. So they step into the elevator and head up to their rooms. The scene from earlier today replays in Arizona's mind, the feeling of pushing Callie against the back wall. …Kissing those lips, cupping that tanned cheek, the remnants of pomegranate shampoo filling her nose.

"Hey, I got some DVD's on my computer if you're up for a little movie marathon." Teddy quips as they step off the elevator at their floor.

"Thanks for the invite but… I'm kinda drained. Rough day and all…" Arizona replies, even though she knows her friends are just trying to keep her from burrowing up into her little cocoon and coping the only way Arizona knows how. And that's by burying herself into something else, namely studying.

"Alright well… You know the room number." Addison says as she and Teddy continue further on down the hall towards their room, leaving the blonde at her doorway.

"Thanks for dinner, Red." Robbins adds, then slips her key card into the door mechanism and enters to quiet room. The stress of the day finally piles onto the pitcher and her eyes suddenly become heavy. She shuffles over to her bed, not really paying attention to the duffel bag on what use to be Callie's bed. Flopping down on the mattress, Arizona lets out a sound that's half growl and half cry.

"Bad day?" Blue eyes shoot open and Arizona somehow ends up on her feet, standing in the middle of the mattress, hands in front of her in a sort of karate type pose. Callie has to bite her lower lip to keep from laughing at the older woman. "Woah… easy, Battleship." The Latina drawls, holding up her hands in surrender.

Clutching her pounding heart, Arizona tries to calm herself. Stepping off the mattress, she stares at the magically reappearing catcher in her room. "What… where… where did you come from?" The blonde stammers.

"…Bathroom." Callie answers, pointing to the room she was in when the hotel room door opened and the Latina heard someone shuffle in. She poked her head out just in time to see the pitcher make a very disturbing sound. She waits for another question, the big question. The 'what the hell are you doing back' question, but it never comes. She decides to answer it anyways "Webber called me two hours ago… said he had heard the whole story. And that he might have jumped the gun at cutting me."

"Oh." It's the only thing that comes to the blonde's mind.

"Yeah…" Callie breathes out, chocolate and blue eyes locked from across the room. "So… I'm back. That's if… the team wants me back."

"Huh." Again, that's all Arizona has. She's not going to shout out 'it was me! I wanted you back'. No… because after all, Arizona is still pissed at the Latina.

The two are at a stale mate for another minute until Arizona's phone beeps with an incoming text message. It's Addison inviting her to come watch 300 with them. Something about hot guys with 12 packs running around in skirts… obviously they don't get the whole 'gay' thing. So the blonde politely declines again and both she and Callie fall back into the silent uncomfortableness that had surrounded them for days. They each stay on their own bed, the pitcher's nose buried back into her notebook while Callie tries to find something to occupy her anxious hands. The ugly piece of art on the far wall does little to keep her attention and she finds herself glancing at her crush more times than not.

That kiss replays in her mind, Callie trying to pick apart what exactly it meant. Was it Arizona's way of saying don't go? Or… I want you? …Or maybe it was just a goodbye kiss, one that signaled the end of whatever 'they' were. And now that Callie is back… is that end still really 'the end'?

Somehow the time passes, and both lie awake in their beds staring at opposite sides of the room. Arizona can't get her mind to shut up and it's keeping her up. Counting sheep, imaging the ocean, hell… going over the steps for a routine appendectomy doesn't even lull her into sleep. And it's all because of that woman, the woman whose breathing sounds like a hurricane in this deathly quiet room. Fists ball the pillow under her head and a fresh wave of anger hits her now that she knows Callie is back… for now.

Torres is lost in her own thoughts, going over the entire mess that put her in this position for the millionth time. She pin points each instance where she could have stepped forward, where she could have done the right thing and maybe spare the team all this hurt and confusion. And she remembers every time Arizona looked at her with sad blue eyes, silently pleading the Latina to speak up. To be the woman Callie knows she is. Her thoughts are cut off mid stream when a pillow smacks her square in the face.

Arizona is already winding up for blow number two when Callie sits up, eyes wide in shock. "What the-" But the catcher is cut off by another hit, the blonde swinging for the fences. The soft object makes contact with the Latina's chest, knocking Torres back into the prone position. "Arizona!" She yells, but Arizona keeps wailing on her. Time after time after time, the blonde slams the catcher with the pillow. Her arms strain and her breathing becomes as ragged as when she's running full out. It's not just Callie she's beating up, but her parents, her brother, her ex… all of her anger and disappointment comes flooding out.

"Arizona! Arizona!" Callie shouts, trying to fight the pitcher off with one hand while protecting her face with the other.

When Robbins stops her assault on Torres she is panting and shaking. "You just…" She growls, trying to find the words but nothing comes so she hits Callie in the stomach with the pillow one more time. "Why do you have to piss me off so much, Calliope? God! …Why can't I just hate you? !" Arizona exclaims, then raises a threatening finger to the wide eyed Latina. "You do something stupid like that again and I swear to God, Callie… I swear…" To emphasize her seriousness, the blonde hauls off and wallops Callie one last time then turns her back and crawls into her own bed.

Callie sits there, hair a mess after that downy soft assault, in utter shock and confusion. Did that really just happen? Did Arizona Robbins really just beat the crap out of her with a pillow? Maybe Shepard slipped Callie a couple pills just as revenge and now the Latina is tripping like crazy?

Needing conformation, Torres whispers "Arizona-" but she's cut off by a pillow being tossed at her, hitting her square in the face.

"Go to sleep, Callie." Arizona snaps, then curls around her last remaining pillow and closes her eyes.

The captain lies back in her own bed, eyes staring up at the empty ceiling as she tries to piece together this mess of a day. Getting cut, getting her ass chewed out, letting her team down. Renting a hotel room because she was too embarrassed to go home and face her family. Then getting a call from Coach Webber saying he is giving her one more chance, and if she screws up she's done for good. But the oddest incident, out of all of it, was the one sided pillow fight. Blue eyes staring at her with hurt that goes beyond her month spent with the team. Callie takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, the sound of steady breathing from the blonde lulling her into sleep. And as odd as it seems, she's comforted by the fact that she and Arizona made some sort of progress tonight. …At least Arizona talked to her. What it means, Callie doesn't know yet. What she does know is that it will be a fight to get the blonde to open up and trust her again. But Arizona is worth it, and Callie is more than ready to fight for her.

* * *

AN2: What do you think? Leave me some love.


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: Next chapter is here. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 20

Sleep did not come easily to Callie Torres that night. After the less than pleasant beat down by a pillow wielding blonde, the Latina fought to calm her mind. For some unknown reason she was back in Arizona's hotel room when she should have been crying into a pillow in some out of the way motel room, agonizing over having wasted the last decade of her life. For some unknown reason, Coach Webber called her and said she had another chance… just as long as the team agreed. So now her fate is in the hands of those women whom she hurt the most. The ones who looked up to her to be a leader, someone of inscrutable principles and strong character. Callie let her team down, and now she has to rely on those very same women to keep her alive.

But somehow she did find sleep in the dark, dwindling hours of the morning. Her dreams were rocky and mirrored her internal struggle, adding one more layer of guilt to her already tired body. After a night of tossing and turning coming from the other side of the room, Arizona wakes up feeling just as tired as when she fell asleep. Her mood isn't any better but there is a noticeably less need to hit something. Last night's attack on her captain was… relaxing. It was nice to let all those emotions fly, even if for a single, solitary moment. To let it out onto someone besides herself and know that it would be ok. Even after all Callie has done, after she abused whatever feelings the blonde had for her, Arizona felt close enough to the Latina to let Torres see that side of Arizona's pain. Pain that has burrowed itself so deep into the surgeon's soul that she doesn't know if it will ever leave, or if Arizona is doomed to spend the rest of her days with a big, gaping hole in her heart.

Blue eyes crack open and squint, the early morning light searing the last remaining vestiges of sleep from her brain. Her body is sore, legs tired from her punishment given by Coach Webber. As mile after mile passed under her feet, her dislike for Erica Hahn only increased. …And that's saying something. She thought she had lost Callie for good, gone from the team and gone from her life. What were the chances that the two of them would just run into each other once the Games were over? Arizona didn't even know where Callie called home. And the blonde doesn't know where she, herself, will end up either. She has no home, no ties, no real family left after her parents' divorce and brothers death. Anywhere Arizona Robbins has her feet planted is as much home as anywhere else in the world.

But then a moan of displeasure pulls Arizona's attention to her roommate and the pitcher watches as tanned limbs flail under a fluffy white duvet, Callie desperately trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in. After rubbing her eyes and checking her phone, Arizona finds that Webber has sent out another mass text, calling for the team to meet in his room at 830 this morning… again. Butterflies start to flap in her stomach, anxiety rearing its ugly head. Team USA had received an identical text calling for a meeting this morning, and that ended with two of the best players being cut from the team. But then she remembers that the secret is out, all of it. All the names are out on the table. Amelia Shepard, Callie Torres, Erica Hahn… and Arizona Robbins. There is no secret anymore so … what more could be left to say?

Rolling out of bed, Arizona stumbles to the sink just outside of the bathroom and starts brushing her teeth. Blue eyes stare back at her in the reflection, haggard and dull from the compounded stress of this last week. Her gaze falls to the floor where a bright color catches her attention. In the trash can is the package of gummi worms the Latina left on Arizona's pillow yesterday. Whether they were a goodbye gift, and I'm sorry gift, please forgive me gift, the blonde doesn't know. Maybe it was some last minute attempt at getting Arizona back in her good graces, or Callie was trying to bring up the memories of the two of them sharing an easy relationship. One full of back of the bus chats, sharing ear buds and listening to the same songs, and ruining their teeth with sugary candies.

Spitting out her toothpaste and running her brush under the faucet, Arizona leans down and pulls the package from the trash. She doesn't know why, and frankly she doesn't want to know why. Not yet. But… it's a shame to waste perfectly good gummy worms.

She sits on the edge of her bed and flicks through the multiple emails that she received during the night when another groan of annoyance falls from plump lips. It's 7:45, only forty five minutes until they are due in Webber's room, and Arizona figures Callie will need that time to make herself appear halfway human.

Her mind is pushing her further and further into consciousness, but Callie fights it. Five more minutes, that's all she wants. Just five more minutes. But the wish evaporates when pillow smacks her in the back of her head, making Callie bolt awake, wide eyed and confused.

"Get up." Arizona snaps, weapon in hand ready for another blow incase Callie attempts to fall back asleep. "You got less than an hour to get ready." She adds.

Dark eyes lock with blue, Callie trying to clear the haze from her mind. "You know… that's getting real old, real fast." She groans, then rubs at her eyes and steels herself for the battle yet to come.

* * *

At 8:28 Erica Hahn walks into Coach Webber's room and takes a seat. She has no idea what this meeting is about, especially after yesterday's meeting. The secret is out, well… halfway out… and Richard made his moves. But there is still the fear in the back of her mind that she has yet seen the last of all this. A drug 'scandal', as Webber put it, never goes away so easily. And now Hahn fears that her part in all of this is about to catch up with her.

Suited up players filter in, each exchanging an equally confused look with everyone else. All wonder what is coming now. Who will be the next to be cut, how much further will Team USA be cut down before they eventually fold. Everyone watches Richard, perched on the corner of the small hotel room desk, waiting for some sort of signal or sign. Something that will tip them off as to what is playing through the big man's head but his practiced face reveals nothing.

"Bets on whose been snorting the bath salts this time?" King asks when she enters the room, immediately plopping down in the corner of the couch.

"Ten bucks says it's Kepner." Yang drawls before pulling a dry fruit loop from her little breakfast cereal box and tossing it in the air, catching it in her mouth with practiced ease.

"Hey!" April yelps. "Why would you-" But the redhead's words are cut off when Callie Torres pushes the door open and enters the room. All eyes land on their captain… ex-captain… whatever she is now. Mouths hang agape and minds race. Steel blue eyes widen in shock, latching onto the sorrowful chocolate of the banished catcher's. Arizona slips into the room behind her and quickly takes a seat. Everyone is in their uniform, everyone save for Callie.

Webber clears his throat, pulling everyone's attention from the Latin to him. "Thank you, ladies, for dragging yourselves out of bed an hour earlier than planned. I know you're… confused. And frankly, so am I. But… some things have transpired since yesterday morning, as you can see." All eyes float, not so stealthily, to the Latina chewing on her fingernail, Callie's leg going a hundred miles an hour as she taps out her nervous energy on the floor below her.

Continuing, Webber adds "Now, I hold you all in the utmost respect so I firmly believe that you all deserve-"

Cutting her coach off, Charlotte asks "What the hell is going on Webber? Cut the bull." King can always be trusted to dig right into the dirt. The southerner has a bark, and her bite is just as fierce.

Erica's fears are proven true when Richard answers "I've been enlightened with the full story of what happened with Amelia. It appears… Torres was not the only guilty party."

"I knew it. It _was _Kepner." Yang deadpans.

"Hey!" April yelps again, her voice rising about twelve octaves.

"No, it was Hahn." Arizona spits out before she can bite her tongue. Necks nearly snap when heads turn to look at the pitcher. Robbins had not intended on spilling the beans, she respected Webber enough to do what he thought right. But he was sugar coating it too much and Arizona wanted the team to know. …The truth this time.

When no one says anything, Arizona stands and faces her team, setting her glare on the very guilty and very stone faced Erica Hahn. "It was Erica. Erica asked Callie to cover it up. They asked me to overlook the fact that Shepard used _my _script pad to high." She lets her words sink in, looks flicking between Arizona, Callie, Erica, and Richard. "Stupidly… Callie went along with it. And stupidly… so did I. But Erica was part of this too. Amelia was the one who got high, but it was Hahn's insistence to keep it on the down low."

"That's enough Robbins." Webber says quietly. Arizona blushes slightly, her authority issues returning just as quickly as that anger that made her snap. Quickly retaking her place, the head man in charge adds "So… there you have it. Now… here's the deal. Amelia stepped down before her drug test is completed. So, technically, there has been no real infraction. …Seeing as this is a team, we win together and we fail together, I decided to put the decision of whether Torres should be brought back to you all. You are the ones who will be competing with her, you are the ones who will be trusting her on the field. It's your choice. Your vote. Up to you." The twelve women look between themselves, each wondering what the others are thinking. Callie's stomach is doing barrel rolls and Erica has broken out in a cold sweat.

"I'll uhh-" Callie groans, then clears the lump in her throat. "I'll step out so I won't be pressuring you all."

"No." Arizona snaps, reaching out and grasping the Latina's hand to keep her where she is. "You don't have to go because it's a simple answer." Looking back to the rest of her team, Robbins says "Yes. That's my vote. I vote she stay on the team. She did what she did to keep her team together and strong… as wrong as it might have been." Blue eyes find brown again and she adds "But I get it. I forgive her. So… my vote is yes." The smallest smile crosses Callie's face but never really makes it to her eyes because there are still eleven other woman who could veto her pitcher.

"I agree." Addison states quickly.

"Me too." Teddy adds.

One after another voice their approval, all wanting their captain back on the team. Callie has been with them since the beginning, and for most of them, it's not Team USA without C.T. The monster behind the plate that makes batters quake.

"Thank you. …I won't let you all down again, I promise." Callie breathes out, tears glistening in her eyes out of appreciation. Richard just nods and tosses the Latina back her jersey with a silent warning of not to screw up again. After a beat of silence, someone moves to stand and the rest follow.

"Wait!" Addison announces, stopping everyone in their tracks. "What about Hahn?" She asks, anger building towards the blonde after hearing what part Erica played in all this. She let her ex-sister in law hide her problem, and let her best friend take the fall. And Addison does not let people take advantage of her friends. "Shouldn't she have some sort of punishment? I mean… it sounds like this was all her idea."

"Now hold on-" Erica snaps, fury raging in her eyes.

"She's right." Teddy snarls. "You're supposed to be a captain, Hahn. At least Callie stepped up to the plate. You just sat there… let Torres take the hit. While you did… what? Sulked, bitched at Robbins, bit everyone's head off just because you felt like shit? Not very 'captain-y' of you."

"You watch your mouth, Altman." Erica warns, both slowly rising to their feet and going chest to chest. The rest back up, giving the duo some room to go. But before anything can go down, Sloan and Hunt work their way between the two women, pushing them to opposite corners of the room.

With her glare still locked on the blonde, Teddy says "I don't want her as my captain anymore. She doesn't deserve that right." This catches everyone's attention. Two months ago it would have to be a cold day in hell for anyone to challenge Erica Hahn's right to lead. Sure, she's not the warmest or friendliest woman, but she's a damn good leader. But now? She's lost all her credibility with her team.

"Hold on ladies…" Webbers says carefully, very aware of the fact his team is like a stretched rubber band right now. One more yank in any direction and the whole thing could snap.

"No, she's right." Addison steps up. "Hahn abused her position and and and… No, I don't want her representing me."

"What about Callie?" Erica asks, trying to flip all this attention back onto the other woman.

"What about her?" Addison snaps. "At least she _did _something. Granted, it was late and… very martyr-ish-"

"That's not a word." Lexie cuts in because her brain would have gone haywire if she didn't correct the redhead.

"Can it, Grey!" Montgomery snaps, red hair whirling as Addison's killing gaze finds her younger team mate. Taking a deep breath, she continues "Torres screwed up, but then she manned up and took responsibility. But you? You just… You don't deserve the right to be our captain, Erica. So… I want it put to a vote."

"You can't-" Erica starts to object but gets cut off by a pissed off southerner.

"Second." King adds.

"Fine." Webber's says. "Those who want Hahn stripped of her captaincy, raise your hand." Every hand, save for Callie's, raises. What use to be anger and guilt now dissipates and Erica is left with only numbness. For years, she has been her team's captain. Earning their respect and trust. And just like that… in one vote… it's all taken away.

Wanting to be as fair as possible, Richard calls again. "And now for Torres…" Callie's stomach drops from her body and she closes her eyes, waiting for her sentence to be passed. Sure, she's back on the team. But she was crazy to think that it'd be just like it always was. It's been years since Callie has been _just _a player. She's a leader and, for as many times she says she hates it, Callie loves being her team's captain. The one they all look up to, seek guidance from. It makes all her past mistakes seem… worth it. All the hardships she's been through have only strengthen her in this position. And now… it's going to be taken away, one raised hand at a time.

But then silence greets her ears and she slowly opens on eye. Then the other. Looking over her team, she finds no raised hands. A silent showing of how much her team still cares for her, how much they respect her even after all of this. The Latina is able to catch every player's gaze, all of them giving some small sign of acceptance. A tight smile. A small nod. A wink. Everyone, except Arizona.

* * *

"Can I get a time, Blue?" Callie asks as she pops out of her squat.

"Time!" The umpire announces, throwing his hands up in the air and gesturing for the catcher to head to the pitching mound. Brown eyes see Mark Sloan step out of the shade of the dugout and start to walk on the field but Callie waves him off. She wants to talk to her pitcher alone.

Arizona takes the rag from the back of her waistband and mops up the sweat rolling down her forehead. Miami in the middle of summer is not one of her favorite places. Let alone being covered in a tight polyester uniform with the sun beating down on the open field and humidity so thick you could feel the steam rising off the ground. The Latina crosses the chalk and accepts the towel from her pitcher, wiping her own sweat from her forehead and neck.

"How you feeling, Battleship?" Callie asks, handing the towel back to Arizona.

"Fine." The blonde answers shortly. This is the best appearance Robbins has made since that game the day the whole drug thing came out. But still, the duo is missing that… spark.

"I want to face these next two a little more aggressively. You game?" The catcher asks. Normally, Callie would call whatever sign she wanted and she'd know her pitcher would follow her lead. But now? …She's not sure.

"Yeah, whatever." Robbins replies, tucking the towel back into the waistband of her pants.

"Arizona…" Callie pleads, and blue eyes finally find hers. "You trust me, right?"

Arizona searches those brown depths, feeling every ouch of sincerity Callie is pouring out of them, but they don't hit home. With a sigh, Robbins says "Call what you want, Boss. The pitches will be there."

"Pitcher…" The umpire calls, warning Arizona and Callie that their time out is drawing to a close. So with one last look, Torres pulls her catcher's mask back on and returns to her position behind the plate. The next batter steps up and Callie signals what she wants, and as promised, Arizona delivers. Mark looks on, somewhat concerned when Torres called time out but breathes a sigh of relief when he sees his duo clicking again. Maybe not a hot as they were a week ago, but that will come back. He is sure of it. They just need to find their groove again. Arizona retires that batter, and then gets the third out by forcing the next batter to fly out. And as his two stars past, he gives them a solid clap on the shoulder. He's sure now, his team is solid.

* * *

Deep chocolate eyes go wide as she takes in the TV equipment all pointed at her. Callie Torres is not one for public speaking, or even speaking in front of a camera. But here she is, freshly showered and changed, her hair done up and makeup being touched up while some big name news person prepares to interview her. Frankly, the Latina is surprised she is still the voice for her team. But they voted this morning, she's their captain and now Webber has insisted that Team USA's captain will be the one in front of the camera. Her… and her pitcher.

Arizona sips on her water as the makeup person finishes her last minute touch up on Callie. And the blonde can't help but think that Callie doesn't need to be touched up, she's perfect. Even with helmet hair, and sweat rolling down that beautiful caramel flesh, Callie Torres is the image of perfection. Which just reinforces the notion that Arizona can't go there. Not after what happened, not after all that has happened to the blonde. It wouldn't work. Arizona would ruin the goddess.

Once deemed acceptable, Callie is left alone to wait next to Arizona until its go time. The Latina's leg is going a mile a minute, nerves making themselves know to the usually stoic and sure woman.

Arizona notices, and asks "You're not nervous, are you?"

"I uhh…" Callie clears her throat but then closes her mouth as she is sure her quick lunch is about to make a reappearance. "I don't… I don't do well with public speaking… or cameras…" A sweat breaks across a tanned forehead and Torres is sure that her makeup is streaking down her face this very second. It suddenly becomes very hot and she starts to fan herself.

"Deep breaths, its just the three of us." Robbins replies. Even if she is still pissed off at Callie, Arizona doesn't want to see her upset or sick… or make a fool of herself on national TV. So the blonde reaches across and lays a warm hand on the bouncing knee, Torres immediately stopping her nervous habit and locking eyes onto sparkling blue ones next to her.

"Go out with me." Callie whispers, shocking herself just as much as Arizona. But neither have a chance to add anything to the Latina's request because a red light turns on and the camera's are rolling. The interview starts out rough, Callie getting tongue tied and Arizona recovering from the shock of her catcher's proposal. But after a couple introductory questions, both players mellow out a bit and actually start to interact well. Not only with just the interviewer, but with each other. Something that hasn't happened in a long time.

Then that question is asked, the one Torres knew would be coming. "So, Callie, last time we talked to Team USA, it was you and Amelia Shepard leading Team USA into the Olympics. Now you have a new pitcher, and are a spot empty with only a few weeks left with no Shepard on the roster. What's going on?"

With a deep breath, the Latina recites the statement Richard Webber prepared. "Amelia stepped down from the team yesterday due to some personal issues that required her full time attention. I know that it pained her greatly to have to pull out so close to the games but… it was what was best for both her and this team. We are a player down, but our coaches have a list of very talented and very eager alternatives that are more than happy to join us on our road to victory."

Turning her attention to the blonde, the interviewer asks "Arizona, what is it like to be bumped up from 'second string' to first. The main pitcher. Not only coming in as… seemingly, an unknown. But being the real muscle behind this team?"

"I don't know if I'd call myself the muscle…" Arizona replies, a giggle falling from her lips that calms Callie's nerves. "But it's… I don't know. It doesn't really seem real to me. I don't think there was ever real 'strings' per say. Shepard was an ace pitcher and was lucky enough to have Torres as her catcher. And I'd like to think that I am pretty good-"

"She is." Callie cuts in, blue eyes darting to hers and the Latina receiving the first real smile from Arizona in a week's time.

"But… getting paired with Callie was all about chemistry, not so much about bumping Amelia out of first string. Now that she has stepped down? Yeah, there are some definite nerves there but I just… I have to look at the present, you know? Worry about this game, this batter, this pitch. And not get all wrapped up with some game that may happen down the road." Robbins continues.

"And what does it mean for you to represent the United States of America in London?" The interviewer asks, checking off the questions on her cheat sheet as she goes on. "Your brother was killed in the line of duty for this country, and now you are, in a sense, in another line of duty." Callie glances to the blonde next to her just in time to see Arizona's shoulders slump. Of all the topics this woman could have asked, she had to go with the juicy topic even if it means drudging up a pain that Arizona doesn't want to feel again. "What does this mean to you? Do you think your brother would be proud?"

"It's… Would he be proud? Yeah, he would." Arizona replies weakly, trying very hard not to break down in front of the cameras. The last thing she needs is for the whole nation to see tears fall from her eyes. Arizona Robbins doesn't cry. "What does it mean to me? It means… everything. Wearing the same flag on my chest that my brother wore on his arm means everything to me. My number is 7, and Tim's company number was 7. It's… it means everything to me, to carry on his ideal of international unity. You know… everyone hears the word Marine, and they think soldier. Warrior. …Killer. But that's not what Tim was. He was a peacekeeper. He was a protector, he was a savior."

Brown eyes start to glisten as Callie listens to Arizona's answers, and she has to blink hard to keep her own tears from falling. She wants so badly to reach out, to close that small distance between then and take the blonde's hand, to give her some support. But that wouldn't do. Not at all. With the unknown reason for Amelia Shepard, one of USA's most promoted players, disappearing suddenly, and then some sort of intimate touching between two other players? That's how rumors get started, the kind of rumors that tear teams apart before they even have a chance.

"And… I think as Olympians, we share that position." Arizona continues, eyes glazed over as her memories take her back to easier, happier times. One full of love, from her brother, from her happy parents, from her girlfriend. "As Olympians, we come together in the spirit of the sport to promote peace. No matter nationality or language, religious beliefs… we all have the same passion. And I think that's the message. That nations, as different as they are great, can come together in peace and get along. ...That's what Tim was fighting for. And that's what I'm fighting for. He just fought in sand, and I fight in the clay."

"And fight you shall." The woman interviewing them replies, a true smile crossing her lips for the first time. "And know that this country thanks you both for your dedication. …As well as your brother's sacrifice." With that, the interview winds down and soon the red light bulb clicks off. Arizona yanks her mic off unceremoniously and flees from sight before Callie can follow.

"Arizona… Arizona!" The Latina calls, feverishly trying to get the tech guy to move faster, but by the time she is free, the blonde is nowhere to be seen.

* * *

The next day is considered a down day since Team USA does not have a scrimmage but that doesn't mean they don't train hard. The coaches take advantage of the slightly cooler mornings by having the girls practice for a couple hours just as the sun is coming up. Arizona rests her shoulder and instead takes some time at shortstop while both Callie and Erica take turns breaking in their newest team mate. Lucy Fields, a blonde from Alabama, the team they played at their last stop, is an up and coming pitcher. All the players keep one eyed glued to the rookie, wondering if she is up to snuff for their standards even though there is no way Amelia Shepard's spot could be filled completely.

After practice is a weight training session, followed by more promotions, but finally the bus pulls up out front of their hotel. "7:30 tomorrow morning ladies. Good work today. Get some sleep." Webber announces and then the team unloads.

Once settled in, showered and changed into her pajamas, Arizona sits on her bed in utter exhaustion. She thought things would lighten once the drug thing came out, but somehow everything has gotten heavier. Or maybe it's all the same and the finish line is approaching, making her feel claustrophobic. She doesn't know. Cracking the window and pulling off the screen, Arizona straddles the windowsill and lights up a cigarette, not caring if this is a 'no-smoking' room or not.

Callie crosses the room and snags the lit cigarette from the blonde's fingers then flicks it out the window. Robbins' jaw clenches but she doesn't say anything, just like she hasn't said anything since their interview yesterday afternoon. Instead, the pitcher pulls another smoke from her pack and lights up. Before the puff of noxious gas is able to wrap its fingers around Arizona's air sacs, tanned fingers snatch it from her grasp again.

"Ok, this is like the least fun game ever." Arizona sneers.

"I don't like it when you smoke." Callie states matter of factly, then snatches both the lighter and pack from Robbins' hands and throws them out the window as well. Blue eyes roll and Arizona pushes past Callie, grabbing her notebook and plopping down on her bed.

Silent minutes pass, Callie's mind going a hundred miles a minute. But then, somehow, those same words slip out again. "Go out with me." Cerulean eyes freeze on the page, Arizona not sure if she heard Torres correctly or not. She wasn't sure if she heard them right the first time. But now, there they are again. Callie must mean them if she says them twice.

Turning in front of the mirror to look at Arizona head on, Callie asks "Would you go out with me?"

Blonde tresses wave as Arizona shakes her head slowly. "Callie… don't do this."

"Why not?" Torres replies. "I like you, Arizona. And I know I screwed up. But I-I want to show you th-that _that_ wasn't me. I mean, it was. But that person who I was, that's not me." Words are falling from her mouth faster than she can filter, and Callie is aware of only half of what she is really saying. "Go out with me, please. I know it's hard, it's complicated, it's messy and against the rules. But… I like you. And you like me. So please… just go out with me."

Arizona sits up and swings her legs off the edge of her bed, hanging her head in her hands. "No." She whispers.

Even though she was expecting it, Callie can't ignore the dagger did straight into her heart. "Why not?"

"You… I can't… No. Callie, no." The blonde breathes out, her own stomach knotting.

"Why not?" The Latina keeps pushing. If she's going to get shut out by a woman who obviously wants Callie just as much as Callie wants her, she's going to make Arizona give her a good reason.

Arizona snaps, that last straw finds the camel's back. "Because!" She barks, making Callie jump but the Latina keeps her gaze locked on blue eyes. "Because I have nothing to offer you, Callie!" A shaking hand rubs roughly at Arizona's face, the pitcher somehow making her way to her feet.

"A relationship is about give and take and I have nothing to give you, Calliope. I'd be taking and taking and taking and then you'd realize that you deserve better and then you'd leave me. And I don't know if I could survive that." It's coming up, finally. It's all coming up and Arizona is tired of trying to hold it back.

"Why do you think I'd leave?" Callie asks softly from her perch on her mattress.

"Because everyone leaves. Everyone." The blonde answers. "Everyone I've ever trusted has let me down. I trusted my brother to come back from Iraq, but he didn't. …All I got was a damn flag as they lowered his body into the cold, hard ground. …I trusted my parents to be there for me, to help me… help me understand, to greive, to accept that my brother is dead. But they didn't. Instead they picked and fought and yelled at each other until they were just… zombies walking around the earth. And then they split whatever family I had in half. …My _girlfriend_, the one person who is suppose to love me and comfort me, left because I was crying myself to sleep every night when all I wanted was someone to hold me. To take me in their arms and let me cry. Let me be sad and to let me grieve. But she packed her bags and ran because I wasn't fun to be with. Because I wasn't the bright and shiny person she said she fell in love with." Tears stream from blue eyes, but Arizona doesn't feel them. "But most of all? The one person who let me down the most was me. The one thing I've been working towards since I can remember. To become a surgeon. A damn good surgeon. And then I go and fail my oral boards, losing my fellowships and any chance I might have of paying off the hundreds of thousands of dollars of debt I have floating over my head."

"So what did I do? I quit. I bailed. It got hard, and I bailed. I started pitching again. I pitched and I pitched and I pitched. Then one day I tried out for Team USA. Who would have thought I'd make?" Arizona pauses, then a sarcastic laugh falls from her lips. "I sure as hell didn't, but guess what? Here I am. I wake up each morning without a brother, without a family, without a girlfriend, and without a job. …I'm a softball player, Callie. I mean, who does that? And I'm not even doing that very well anymore. I'm actually waiting for the day Webber says "Yeah, we're cutting you loose." Because it's coming. I know it is. Because that is the last thing that can be taken away from me."

Blue lock with brown and Arizona lowers her voice "So please… _please _tell me what you think I have to offer you. What good I might be in a relationship. Please! Because I… I got nothing. I am barely hanging on, and it feels like I'm about to fall through the floor at any minute. Or that around the next corner a bus is just waiting to run me over." Callie sits in silence, letting the blondes tragic words soak in.

Arizona stops her pacing, her throat having gone dry, and turns to face the Latina. Shaking her head, Arizona says softly "You don't want me, Calliope. You deserve someone better, someone who hasn't been numb from pain and grief for the past six months. Someone who can get through the National Anthem without curling into a ball and crying her eyes out. So just… don't ask me, Callie. Because, frankly, I don't have the strength to say no again."

Tears streak down the blondes face and Callie wants nothing more to reach out and wipe them away. "Arizona…" She breathes out, not knowing what else to say. Because, what do you say to a woman whose life has been shredded in just six months?

"I'm sorry." Arizona whispers, then wipes her eyes while flicking off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness, and crawls into bed. She turns away from her roommate, the wrinkled picture of her brother grasped in her hand as silent tears roll down her face.

Callie sits on her mattress, her head turned to stare at the shape of the curled up blonde, soft sniffles filling the air as Arizona tries to keep her pain held in. It breaks her heart seeing her pitcher like this. The hurt and the pain and the stress that has been coiled up inside Arizona is enough to make anyone twice as strong or old or wise snap, and how she gets herself up in the morning is a wonder to Callie. She's no stranger to heartache herself, but Callie has always had someone there. Someone's shoulder to cry on. Someone to hold her, to whisper 'it will all be ok' in her ear. Someone who will be there in the middle of the night. Everyone needs someone like that.

So with determination, Callie stands and rounds her bed, but doesn't crawl underneath her own covers. Instead, she lifts the sheets over Arizona and climbs in next to the blonde. She doesn't say a word, instead Callie settles on her side and wraps an arm around the smaller woman's body. Those silent tears immediately erupt into sobs and the Latina just nestles the blonde closer to her, wrapping Arizona in a cocoon of warmth and support. She holds the broken woman tight, giving Arizona the closeness she's been craving all along. Soon, those cries and tears fade away and the pitcher relaxes in the Latina's arms. Neither of them say a word, neither of them needing to say a word. Blue eyes close and her mind drifts off into sleep, more at peace now than she has been in the past six months.

Callie buries her nose into golden locks, inhaling the sweet vanilla coconut-y scent of Arizona's shampoo. She's dreamed about this, about holding Arizona as she sleeps, but she never thought it would be under these circumstances. The Latina thought it would be after an amazing dinner, maybe a walk through a quiet, romantic park. Then they'd end up in a passionate embrace, Callie teasingly removing Arizona's clothes and then showing the blonde all the skills tanned fingers possess. Only then, after round after glorious round of giving and receiving would they then hold each other close and feel each other's heart beats. …But, things never go the way you expect them to. Ever. So the catcher takes what she can, and gives what she can. Even though Arizona said no doesn't mean the Latina won't ask again. And until that time where Arizona says yes, Callie will wait. Wait and hope…

* * *

AN2: How you all liking the slow burn? Sizzling yet? Let me know. And as always, thanks for reading! You all are great.


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: Alright ya'll, hope you're comfortable because this one is a biggie. I was going back and forth about splitting this chapter up into two, but couldn't really find a good cut off point halfway through so figured what the hell. Also, wanted to say thank you again for the great reviews you all have left, as well as everyone else who takes the time to read my ramblings. It means a great deal to me. Now, on with the show. As always, Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 21

The prattling of a cell phone dancing its way across the nightstand is what pulls Arizona Robbins out of her sleep. Her mind is foggy and eyes very heavy, but her body is relaxed. For the first time in… she can't remember how long, it feels like she actually slept. No haunting of her brother, no replays of the terrible words her girlfriend said to Arizona on her way out of the blonde's life. No crushing weight of hearing about her parent's divorce. No shame of seeing that tall, gray hotel in Chicago where her oral boards were. The building she couldn't force herself to walk into so instead she just stood at the opposite curb and watched the minute hands tick by, each second another wasted year of Arizona's life being flushed down the toilet.

Arizona pushes herself off the mattress, the sun streaming through the thin window shades searing the layer of sleep still remaining across cerulean eyes. Something moves next to her, and the blonde glances to the mass of covers that are emitting a steady stream of whispered curses. Both English and Spanish. It comes back to her. What happened last night, what Arizona said. How Arizona let it all go, finally. Even if she didn't want to, even if she didn't want Callie to see her like that. But when the Latina climbed into her bed and wrapped a strong, yet surprisingly soft and gentle arm around her, Arizona Robbins fell apart. That arm wrapped around her body was all the blonde needed to be able to finally fall apart. Callie didn't say anything, or push herself onto Arizona. Instead, the Latina held Arizona as much as the blonde allowed her to. When the tears came harder, her captain held her tighter. Warmth and comfort and support cloaked the wounded woman, and that was all she wanted from the beginning.

The cell phone starts to ring again, its vibrations sounding even more persistent this time than the last. Arizona bites at her lip, unsure of whether she should reach for the object or not. It is her phone, but that would mean leaning over a still very asleep Callie Torres.

But then the sleeping beauty growls "Shut it up…" Robbins snickers at the woman's distaste of early mornings and reaches for the phone. In her attempts to limit her contact with the Latina, Arizona ends up losing her balance and falls, landing on Callie just enough to scare the woman which sends her rolling off the mattress and hitting the floor with an "Oompf!"

"Oh my god…" Arizona breathes out, her mouth wide in shock. She doesn't know if she should be concerned or amused. …Maybe a bit of both. Peeking over the edge of the bed, blue eyes stare down into dark, sleep filled brown ones. "Callie? Are you ok?"

"Sleeping in the same room with you is dangerous." The Latina replies, sitting up and rubbing her left shoulder which absorbed much of the impact. When she sees her captain is pretty much unharmed, Arizona gives up her attempt at keeping her giggles in. The angelic sound of the blonde's laughter fills the room, deep dimples making a showing for the first time in a long time. …And Callie's breath gets taken away. It's a sight she never thought she'd see again, a sound Callie has become addicted to.

When the high finally passes, sparkling blue eyes find a huge, breathtaking smile on Torres's face. "What?" Arizona asks, suddenly shy after remembering all the other woman witnessed last night.

"Nothing…" Callie whispers, shaking her head softly and taking in the way the rising sun makes blonde hair shine like a halo. "Who's calling you at the butt crack of dawn?" Nimble hands unlock her phone and Arizona reviews her call history. With a groan of annoyance, the blonde chucks the cell across the room, bouncing off the other, still perfectly made, bed, hitting the far wall and falling to the floor.

"My mom." Robbins answers, those two words dripping with disdain. Callie chews on whether to respond to that as Arizona climbs out of bed and grabs her things to take a shower. It doesn't take a genius for the Latina to know her pitcher is embarrassed about last night. Though Callie hasn't known Arizona long, she knows that Arizona is a strong woman. A woman who doesn't like to show weakness, or seem as though she needs help. And she knows Arizona's response to someone getting too close is to push them away, and Callie isn't about to let that happen. Not after last night, not after Arizona finally opened up to her.

Pushing herself off the floor, a tanned hand grabs the passing woman by her hand making Arizona turn and face her. "Don't run away from me." The Latina whispers, making last night come to the forefront of the blonde's mind. "Please, Arizona."

"Callie…" Arizona breathes out, her words thick with emotion as she blinks back tears. "I… I can't-" Her head shakes, fearful that that question is going to be asked again. And Arizona was telling the truth last night, she doesn't think she has the strength to tell Callie no again.

"I'm not going to ask." Callie cuts her off softly. "But just… don't run away from me, ok? Give me that much. Please." Arizona drops her catcher's gaze, suddenly feeling very exposed and weak. Two things Arizona Robbins does not like.

Hooking a finger under the shorter woman's chin, Callie raises Arizona face until blue eyes find hers again. "Crying isn't a sign of weakness, Arizona. It's a sign of having tried too hard to be strong for too long." Brown eyes scan the face in front of her, watching as her words slowly sink into the surgeon's mind. She can see Arizona resist, trying to fight it, but then also a faint glimmer of acceptance.

What Callie really wants to do right now is to kiss her. Her entire body, her mind, her soul is yelling at her to kiss the girl. …But that would be too much, that would most certainly send Arizona fleeing again. So instead, Torres reaches out with her free hand and cups it around a trim waist, puling the blonde into her arms. At first Arizona doesn't return the embrace, but Callie holds firm. But then slowly, fair arms snake their way around Callie's neck, holding her tight. The catcher waits for the signal, the pull back, the cue that the blonde wants to stop, but it never comes. Blue eyes are shut tight, Arizona just soaking in the strength Callie is giving her. She's sure whatever kind of line there is between them is being blurred, but right now… she doesn't care. Arizona just hangs on, and hopes Callie will never let go.

* * *

Team USA is huddled around the visitor's dugout at the field they are about to play their last scrimmage on. After this game they will be playing countries from all over the world, and everyone is feeling the excitement. Lucy Fields, the latest USA recruit, has been nervously chatting to anyone and anything sitting still long enough to listen. A small smile forms on Arizona's lips as she remembers her first few days on the team, and decides that she won't be like Amelia, Erica or the rest of the team and try to ice the newcomer. But… it is kind of fun to watch the newbie squirm.

"What's so funny, Battleship?" Callie teases from beside the pitcher as she unloads her catching gear from her bag.

"Nothing… just funny, I guess." Arizona replies while twisting the last section of her braid and snapping it secure with a hair tie. "Always thought I'd be the new meat going into the Games."

Just then, Addison approaches their little group with a carrier full of styrofoam cups. Derek, who has been standing nearby while going over the line up, smiles and shakes his head as Teddy, Arizona and Callie all give the redhead a confused look.

"Juju?" Derek chances, not looking up from his authoritative clipboard.

"Yup." Addison answers, then passes the cups around to her closest friends.

"What the hell is a juju?" Arizona asks, looking for help from either Callie or Teddy but getting equally confused faces in response.

"Juju… Juju!" Addison answers, waving her hands emphatically. "You know… it's Karma. Or good luck." Then pointing between Arizona and Callie, she adds "…You two need to need some help in that department. So I thought maybe a little juju would help things move along the right path." The redhead isn't dense, she knows that there is more going on between Torres and Robbins than just a slump on the field. But hey… don't mess with the juju.

Arizona takes a sip of whatever it is and nearly burns her mouth. "Jesus!" She yelps, both Callie and Teddy quickly following her lead when their tongues feel the temperature of the beverage. Cracking open the lid of the cup, the blonde exclaims. "It's hot chocolate!"

"Of course it is." Addison replies with a smile as she brings her own cup to her lips and takes a short sip.

"It's like 95 degrees out here, Addy." Callie states. "And you brought us hot chocolate? …Where the hell did you find this anyways?"

"It wasn't easy, let me tell ya…" The redhead answers.

"You know… My college campus had a magic statue in the courtyard of the Student Union. It was a long standing tradition for students to rub its nose for good luck. My freshman roommate really believed in the statue's power and insisted on visiting it to rub its nose before every exam." Arizona explains when neither she, Teddy or Callie drink their liquid karma. "Though… studying might have been a better idea. She flunked out her sophomore year." The three of them crack up as Addison sends them all an evil eye, a sweat breaking out across the redhead's forehead from the piping hot liquid she is consuming under the searing sun.

"You really want to piss off the Softball God's _now_?" Montgomery asks in all seriousness. Three sets of eyes roll, and a triumphant smile snakes across the redhead's lips. "Didn't think so. Now, finish your juju before we lose another game."

* * *

The sun beats down on Team USA as they jog out to their positions at the bottom of the first inning. Arizona at short, Teddy at first, Callie at third, Lucy pitching and Erica catching. Normally it would be Arizona's time to pitch but she is more than happy to sit this game out and let the New Girl feel out her team. Every pitcher has their own pace and timing. Their own feel for how the game plays out. And now Lucy Fields, and Team USA themselves, only have a few days to get that timing down. To get the groove going.

Two batters into the first inning, Lucy looks shaken. Arizona knows it's from nerves, she's been there before. Coming onto this team with the expectation of what lies ahead of them and being told to go out and pitch? It's a lot to handle. And it can't help that the newcomer looks all of twelve years old, college ball player or not.

The third batter is able to connect on a drop ball that hung in the zone too long, but Arizona is able to sidestep and field the grounder clean enough to send it to third for an out. The throw from third to first is a rocket, but not fast enough to beat the runner.

"Time Blue." Arizona calls once play has stopped.

"Time!" The field ump calls. The shortstop gestures for Callie to join her, along with Hahn from behind the plate. The four of them, plus Teddy at first and Addison at second convene at the pitchers circle, the outfield taking their own little time out as well.

"You doing alright there, killer?" Arizona asks, wiping at her brow.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm good." Lucy answers with a tight smile. She's been playing ball since she was old enough to throw a ball, but still… being picked up last minute to join USA on their road to gold would shake even the most confident players out there.

"Need to calm down a bit, Fields." Callie says, offering a comforting smile. "Today is just a practice, just to get you loose. That's all. Don't need you trying to rack up the K's."

Fields nods, taking her rag and mopping up the sweat collecting under her visor. "Yeah. I know. I'm just… just alittle-"

"Nervous. Yeah, been there." Arizona cuts in with a dimpled grin, blue eyes shielded by blue tinted sports sunglasses. "But just do your game. You got your team… You got Hahn behind the plate. You're covered. Just do you." A strangled laugh comes from the pitchers mouth and Arizona knows she needs to do something to calm this woman down. "What do you call an alligator in a vest?" All eyes turn and stare at the surgeon, wondering what the hell this has to do with the game they are playing right now. "Oh come on… what do you call an alligator in a vest?" Arizona asks again, glancing at each of her teammates in time.

All she gets are shaking heads and silence. "…An investigator." Robbins states, getting looks of disbelief and exasperation from her teammates. "Oh come on! You know that was funny!" A few laughs fall and everyone turns back to their positions. As she backtracks, Arizona notices a much easier smile on Lucy Fields than before and she knows she did her job… even if it meant looking like a complete goober in the process.

"An investigator?" Callie whispers as they walk back to their side of the infield. "Really?"

"What? I spend all day with kids hopped up on drugs. What'd you expect?" Arizona asks in jest, making the Latina throw her head back and laugh. And the next pitch to end up in Hahn's catcher's mitt is a strike. After that, Lucy Fields settles into her team and plays the game she knows she can play.

* * *

Arizona sits alone in hers and Callie's room, the blinds pulled closed and the lights turned off. Normally, this would be when she'd curl into a little ball and cry like a fangirl learning her favorite character was killed off. But that's not what this is. The single source of illumination in the room is the eerie glow of the TV, some old school horror film playing out in front of wide blue eyes. A thin bed sheet is pulled up to the pitcher's mouth, hands fisted tightly in anticipation.

Callie digs into her sweatpants pocket searching for her room key, eager to get back to Arizona after her meeting with the coaches. It was long, and somewhat stressful. She kept waiting for the hammer to drop, for her final punishment to be doled out, but it never came. Instead, they carried on as if nothing happened. They asked her opinion, went over the team's performance and, mostly, discussed Lucy Fields. But now it's nearly 10 pm and the Latina is craving some alone time with a certain blonde bombshell… who just so happens to be sharing a room with her.

Tanned fingers slip the key into the lock mechanism, the little green light flashing, and Callie pushes the door open just as the killer pops out of a dark corner, eliciting a bloodcurdling scream from Arizona. The captain yells in response, scared shitless from the sudden noise. Which in turn makes blue eyes whip to the door, her vision not adjusting quickly enough and her scared brain assuming the killer has entered her room. …And Arizona screams again.

But then the glow of the TV gives enough light for Arizona to make out Callie's face, and the blonde breathes a sigh of relief. "Calliope! Calliope, come here. Come here, come here." She pleads, Callie hurrying to the other woman cocooned in her sheet.

"What's wrong, what? Arizona? What's wrong?" Torres rambles, her heart pounding a mile a minute from her fright and scared that something is actually wrong with the woman. But Arizona doesn't answer, instead she grabs Callie by the hand and yanks her down on the mattress next to her.

"They don't know it's their uncle." Arizona whispers, eyes back on the screen. This is definitely not what Callie was expecting to come back to. Thirty seconds later, the uncle descends upon another victim, making the blonde gasp and nearly jump into the Latina's lap. …And Callie isn't complaining. The minutes pass and somehow the captain finds herself under the covers with Arizona, the blonde focused more on the movie than the woman next to her. Another high point, the uncle running into a very pissed off German Shepard, and Arizona grab's the Latina's hand.

"If you're so scared, why are you watching this?" Callie whispers, using the blonde's distraction to wrap a protective arm around the other woman.

"I'm not scared." Arizona mumbles which makes her catcher laugh disbelievingly. She blindly reaches over to the empty half of the bed, blue eyes still trained on the screen, and grabs the half eaten package of gummy worms. Callie can't help but smile as she watches the frightened woman pick one out of the bag and slowly bring it to her mouth.

Another half hour passes, the movie drawing towards the climax, and the two players have eaten up the last of the gummy worms. Throughout the film, Arizona had been subconsciously moving closer and closer to Callie. To begin with, they sat side by side, bare shoulders touching. Then Callie draped an arm around the blonde's shoulders. But now Arizona is practically nestled in the Latina's arms, her head resting in the crook of the taller woman's neck. And neither of them say a word about it, nor do they want to.

By the time the innocent, traumatized family emerges from the night into the calm, clear light of day just as the end credits roll, Arizona has drifted off to sleep in Callie's embrace. A strange feeling constricts the catcher's chest. A fluttering in her heart makes her slight of breath. It's… new. The way she feels for Arizona. Sure… Callie's been in love before. At least, she thinks she has been. You have to be in love to get married, right? And she was married… once. But she never felt this way about anyone else, the way she feels about Arizona.

Moving as little as possible as to not wake the slumbering woman, Callie mutes the TV and sets the alarm on her phone. She manages to get them both on their backs so they are lying down comfortably, Arizona facing the Latina, a caramel hand resting on the thin strip of exposed flesh between the blonde's tank top and boxer's she's wearing as pajamas. Maybe she's taking advantage of Arizona, maybe Callie should tuck the pitcher in and go to her own bed. But she can't. This just feels… right.

Sweeping back a lock of blonde hair and tucking it behind a cute little ear, Callie whispers "You have no idea how closely I've wrapped myself around your heart…" A fair nose scrunches up, Arizona sleepily itching it with a finger before her beautiful face relaxes back into innocence.

It's funny, the way someone's entire life can boil down to a moment nobody else in the world notices. And even Callie doesn't notice that… this might be one of those moments. Chocolate eyes drift shut, and before sleep finds her, Callie Torres murmurs "Sleep well, Battleship."

* * *

"So you and NewGirl seem to be bouncing back easy enough." Erica chances as she signs her name and passes the poster of the entire team down the line. After another practice this morning, Team USA is scheduled to do promotional spots for the rest of the day. Right now, that means being set up at a couple tables in the middle of a large mall, throngs of people lining up to get a free souvenir.

Callie's brow furrows in confusion, turning to her fellow catcher, and ex co-captain, next to her. "What are you talking about?"

"She hasn't been trying to kill you with her glares the last few days." Hahn explains, barely paying attention to the eight year old in front of her, eyes wide in wonder as she stares at her heroes.

"Hi… what's your name?" Callie asks when the blonde passes on the poster.

"Rebecca." The girl replies, a big toothless grin greeting dark eyes.

"Rebecca… that's a pretty name. Do you play softball?" The Latina asks, ignoring the rolling of steel blue eyes next to her. So the line gets held up a couple seconds, so what? Callie is connecting to a little girl, a little girl who, down the line, could turn out to be an amazing softball player. And all Rebecca needed as encouragement was a smile and kind word from a player the little girl looks up to.

"Uh huh." Rebecca nods, ponytails waving as she nods in earnest. "In my, in my, in my team I play first."

"You do? I bet you're good at it huh?" Callie replies, a big smile on her face. Then leaning over the table, the catcher points out a certain blonde haired first baseman. "She that pretty lady? That's Teddy. She's our first baseman. I bet if you ask her really nicely she could give you a few secrets." The biggest smile takes over the eight year's old face and she nearly pulls her mother's arm out of her socket just to get to Altman.

"It's true…" Erica sneers, jumping right back into the issue Callie really doesn't want to have. Especially with this woman. Erica use to be Torres's best friend. But then… something happened. The blonde made a move and Callie shut her down. And Erica being Erica, she took it personally and retaliated by severing the friendship they did have. Then the drug thing where Callie couldn't stand to be in the same room as her co-captain. And then… this latest issue. Erica got striped of her captaincy, and Callie didn't. The Latina can understand Hahn's displeasure in how all this played out, but that doesn't mean she wants to put up with it.

"Nothing is true." Callie growls, signing her name a little harder than necessary on some 20-something year old guy's poster before giving him a quick smile and passing it on. "And for the last time, it's not 'NewGirl'. It's Arizona… or if you prefer, Robbins. But not 'NewGirl'."

Tense minutes pass, Callie doing the best she can to keep a smile on her face for the crowd while Erica just stews in her anger. She has all these… feelings. And she doesn't know how to get them out. The pain of getting turned down by Callie, only to watch her pine after another woman. Then the guilt of everything with Amelia, followed by the rage of getting her captaincy ripped from her hands. Erica Hahn is not someone who get's punished; she's not one to have her titles and privileges taken away. But mostly, she is not one to be embarrassed by those she deems her subordinates.

"You know… this is just like you." Hahn growls, a sarcastic laugh falling from her crooked lips.

"What the hell does that mean?" Callie snaps, turning in her chair to face the blonde head on.

"Callie Torres. The superstar. The golden girl. The one who gets everything handed to her." At each sentence, Erica's voice grows louder until it catches the attention of the entire team, as well as a large number of the fans crowded around. "The one who had her daddy-"

A strong hand grips the blonde at the top of her arm, and Callie yanks Erica out of her seat. Arizona watches as her captain and roommate pull a very pissed off Hahn away from their signing table and towards the closest hallway. The Latina ignores the multiple signs and placards reading 'Authorized Personnel Only', needing to get somewhere where their dirty laundry isn't about to be hung out for all to see.

The ousted captain finally has enough of being pulled around like a dog on a leash, and Erica yanks her sleeve from the Latina's hand. "This is such bullshit." She spits. "But why should I be surprised, right? Callie Torres gets her spot back and Hahn gets booted out on her ass."

"That's not what happened and you know it." Torres replies, fists curling and uncurling in anger.

"What I know is that we played equal parts in all this, and yet you seem to come out unscathed. What about me?" Erica exclaims, her voice pinging off the high cement walls surrounding them and Callie can only hope that the roam of the crowd out in the main area is loud enough to cover anything that might slip out through the doors.

"What about you? !" The Latina yells right back. "You're still here, Erica. You're still on this team. So am I! That's… That's a million times more than what I thought would happen if this whole… _thing _came out. But the captain thing, that wasn't me! You were there. It was a vote. It took more than one person to vote you out, Erica. And it is _not _my fault you've spent the past few years treating everyone else like your own personal slave monkey." By the time the words clear the hall, both women are seeing red. Callie doesn't break her gaze from the blonde, and Erica doesn't back down as well.

Stepping closer, and lowering her voice to a growl, Callie adds "But I _will _keep my team strong. Even if that means cutting off the bad meat. You get what I'm saying?"

The hairs at the base of Hahn's neck stand on end, never having seen this side of her ex-friend before. Erica can hear the truth in Callie's words, so she switches tact in hopes of unarming the woman. "I knew it. You're screwing her, aren't you?"

Torres snaps and reaches out, fisting her hands into the blonde's shirt and shoving her roughly against the nearest wall. "I'm not going to play this with you, Erica. I took a bullet for you once, it's not happening again. You want to start drama? Fine. But know that I'll end it. And you know I have the power to do just that. …So if you want to keep your position on this team, you keep your mouth _shut_. Understand?" Dark eyes stare straight into blue ones in front of her. Without another word, the Latina lets go of Erica and leaves the blonde, returning to the rest of her team with a forced smile on her face.

* * *

"No Mom. …No. Because I said-" A growl of irritation comes from Arizona's throat and the blonde plops down on her bed, cell phone clenched tightly in her hand. Callie tries to keep herself looking busy but can't miss the annoyance and displeasure coursing through her roommate during the few seconds Arizona has been on the phone with her mother.

"I don't want to hear it! It's not Dad's fault that-" Again, a shrill voice cuts the pitcher off and the Latina can almost see smoke coming from Arizona's lip, her teeth clenching and grinding so hard that she's making spark.

"Look, I got to go. …NO! I got to go. Seriously, they're calling for me." Arizona snaps her fingers to get Callie's attention and silently pleads for some help.

"Robbins! Come on, move your ass!" Torres shouts towards the raised cell. "We don't have all night!"

"See? …Yeah, that's my captain." The smaller woman sighs, making Callie's heart flutter. Maybe Arizona didn't mean it in _that _way, but hearing the blonde call the captain _her _captain, well… it does funny things to the Latina's body. "No. God damn it, Mom! I said- Look, I got to go. Just… I'll call you." And without a goodbye or any sort of compassionate farewell, Arizona hangs up.

Callie waits, her eyes trained to the pages and pages of stats on other teams, wondering if Arizona will take this chance to open up again. Since that night two nights ago, where the Latina held the wounded woman all night just to give Arizona some sense of safety and comfort, neither of them have talked about it. And waking up this morning in much the same position, Arizona curled against Torres's warm body, hasn't helped. Sure, Arizona has slept more these past two nights than any other for as long as she can remember, but the blonde isn't ready to talk about it. Or what it means.

With a frustrated sigh, Arizona stands and heads to the door. "I need… I'm going out. I need some air."

"You're-" Callie starts but cuts herself off. Surprisingly, Arizona stops in her tracks and looks at the woman, waiting for her to finish. "You're not going to smoke, are you?" The catcher asks finally.

"No." Robbins answers, a small smile turning up her lips. "_Someone _threw my last ones out of a window. …Pretty rude if you ask me." The blonde plays, that smirk cracking into a genuine grin when the Latina showcases her own mega-watt smile.

Before she knows it an hour and a half has passed, and Arizona has not returned to her room. The Latina has been emerging herself into the stats of the Polish team that USA will no doubt face in pool play, but wonders what the upset blonde is up to. She didn't leave with anything except a key card, and an inkling of anxiety starts to tug at Callie's stomach. She doesn't want to smother Arizona, but she also wants Arizona to know that Torres is there, and willing to help in anyway.

"Just chill, Torres. She's fine." Callie mumbles to herself, and glances back down at page after page of numbers and statistics. But it all blurs together, ten minutes passing and the Latina hasn't understood a single thing. "Yeah, I'm not fooling anyone…" She growls, then slips her feet into her tennis shoes and grabs her key before leaving the room.

Her first stop is the room three doors down, thinking that Arizona might have sought out some… less complicated… companionship with her friends. But when Addison opens the door, brown eyes can see that the only blonde in the room is definitely not the one Callie wants.

"Try outside." Teddy states from her perch on the bed. "When she's upset, she likes to look at the moon." A slight pout forms on Callie's lips, the catcher somewhat disappointed she didn't know that about Arizona, but thanks her two teammates and leaves.

Strong, clean lungs take deep breathes of muggy air as Arizona calms herself. Her chat with her mother has done nothing but rile her up and, what's worse, she reacted to it. She disrespected her mother, something a Robbins never does. But… Barbara Robbins isn't the same woman she was six months ago. And neither is Arizona. They've all changed, they've all developed an almost… hatred for each other. And it hurts Arizona deeply. But when her mom starts to trash talk her dad, the blonde isn't going to put up with it. It's not the Colonel's fault Tim wanted to be a Marine just like their Dad, and Arizona isn't going to sit by and let her mother spew that kind of lies about her brother.

Callie steps through the large, sliding glass doors of the hotel and exits out into the Miami night. A steady pounding of a ball on the ground draws her around the corner of the building to a basketball court. There, she finds a lone blonde bouncing a basketball slowly, shadowing an opponent and taking shots in time.

Faking left, Arizona moves right and shoots a close fade away. "She shoots…" the ball tips into the net "…she scores!"

"Lucky shot." Callie states, making blue eyes whip around to her company.

"Hey… didn't see you there." The pitcher mumbles and is thankful for the dimness of the court so her catcher can't see the blush racing through fair cheeks. The Latina just shrugs her shoulders and gestures for the ball, which Arizona bounces to her. With ease and efficiency, Callie dribbles up to the basket and shoots an easy lay-up, making the blonde smile.

"I didn't know you played…" Arizona muses, her eyes tracking the woman up and down, finding her outfit of a tank top, basketball shorts and sneakers very sexy.

"Lettered in three sports in high school." Callie replies. "By the time I graduated, had earned 12 Varsity letters. …There's a lot you don't know about me, Arizona." The captain adds, tossing the ball back to the blonde.

A brow arches, a thought playing through the smaller woman's mind. "How about a little one on one? …Could use alittle stress relief." Another blush washes over her as she hears exactly what she said, and knowing the it could be taken in a _very _dirty way.

Plump lips pull into a smile, not having missed that glaringly obvious innuendo, but the catcher decides to play nice and replies "You really think you could take me, Battleship?" Arizona just shrugs, dribbling nonchalantly and teasing the catcher. "Alright. First to 11?"

"We played to 21 but whatever…" Arizona sighs.

"Fine. 21 smartass." The captain snaps back, her competitive edge rearing its ugly head. Arizona hands her the ball but Callie gives it back.

"Smoke before fire, chica." Arizona quips, tossing the basketball back.

But Callie's not about to step down and she checks the ball back roughly. "And age before beauty, grandma." Arizona's mouth drops open, definitely not expecting that low blow.

Taking her starting position, Robbins notices that Torres is giving her a bit more room than usual, almost like Callie is afraid to be in close quarters with her. "Aren't you suppose to be… oh, I don't know… covering me?" The blonde asks sarcastically.

"I think I can handle you…" Callie answers just as sarcastically. Arizona just smiles and shrugs, then bounces the ball, fakes right and shoots from the top of the three point line. The ball sails through the air, hits the backboard and falls through.

"One, zip." Arizona states, a giggle falling from her lips at the look of shock on Callie's face. Chocolate eyes narrow, and the Latina tosses the ball back to the blonde. Robbins takes it, expecting Callie to move in but the catcher doesn't, so she shoots another shot from the three point line and it's nothing but net. "Two, zip."

"Alright…" Callie drawls. "White girl's got some game. …Prepare to meet The Beast." The taller woman taunts, moving in close to the blonde. This time when Arizona goes to fake, Callie strips the ball, takes it out and brings it back in for an easy point. The game is on. At first the two try to keep their hands… and bodies… mostly to themselves. But then the heat of the battle over takes the two lifelong athletes become consumed in the game.

Callie's larger body frame all but engulfs Arizona's as the blonde tries to fight her way to the basket, but the pitcher has the element of speed and agility that the Latina just can't match. And when Arizona is able to break away, she is able to drive a point home.

"Yeah, baby! 8 to 7." The shorter woman pants, back tracking to the line.

"Where'd you learn to play?" Callie asks, seeing a perfect opportunity to learn a little more about the closed off woman in front of her.

"Tim and I use to play… When we were growing up. And then there was a hoop outside my apartment complex at school." Robbins answers, not even second guessing whether she wants to tell Callie this or not. It's just easier to talk about all this when she's doing something, focused on something else. It's like it takes the sting out of her words, out of her memories.

Callie gets possession, strong arming Arizona as the blonde tries to protect the lanes. Back brushes against chest, ass against center. Hands and arms are everywhere, and sweat starts to run down their foreheads. Torres pushes pass the blonde and drives to the basket, laughing at the scowl that mars Arizona's face.

"I believe that's 14 to 11, me." Callie taunts, the single street lamp illuminated dark blue eyes. Arizona checks the ball back and sets up, preparing for another assault. The Latina tries to showboat alittle bit, having more experience and skill than the blonde, but Arizona is able to steal the ball and score, pumping a fist in the air.

"Hmm, 12 to 14." Arizona state's smugly.

"Watch the cockiness, Battleship. I might just have to hurt you." Torres growls, and is immediately on Arizona's ass. The blonde pushes her back against the larger woman, fighting to get a clear path but Callie has her covered.

When a tanned hand slips around the front of Arizona, accidently grasping at her chest, the blonde asks "You always play grab ass with your opponents?"

"Only the cute ones." Callie huffs back, absorbing yet another body blow from the smaller woman. The catcher slaps at just the right time and Robbins loses control of the ball, only for it to be scooped up and thrown through the hoop by Torres.

"Damn it." Arizona growls, not liking the fact she is losing at all. Callie just jogs back to the starting line, chuckling and loving how she is getting the blonde's feathers all ruffled. If sleepy and innocent Arizona Robbins was cute, pissed off and competitive Arizona Robbins is fricken hot.

"Can't stand the heat, Arizona?" The Latina asks playfully which makes blue eyes roll. The sweat is trickling down both women's faces and the blonde lifts the front of her white tank top, mopping up the slickness drenching her forehead. Dark eyes go wide as she watches that same white tank top be pulled over blonde hair, revealing a tight, black sports bra and wonderfully firm abs.

"Lord have mercy…" Callie whispers, all moisture in her mouth drying up from the fire now raging throughout her body. Suddenly the temperature of the air rises about twenty degrees and the Latina is fully aware of every sensation rippling over her heated flesh. Her eyes roam up long, lean, perfectly sculpted legs, to the short red shorts that cover the blonde's center, reaching a flat, and probably deliciously smooth, stomach, to restrained breasts.

A clearing of a throat snaps the catcher out of her trance, brown eyes finally focusing on a smirking blonde. Arizona is well aware of the way Callie reacted to her body, it was kind of hard to miss. The gallons of saliva now pooling around the basketball court is evidence enough. Not wanting to be the only one tempted, Torres follows suit and rips her own tank top off, revealing a deep purple sports bra underneath. Now it's Arizona's turn to go wide eyed. A goddess… that's what Callie Torres must be. Not a catcher or a captain… but a goddess. Stuck here on this planet, making every other earthly woman obsolete. The perfect balance of strength and womanhood. Femininity with a touch of masculinity. Rough and soft. …All blended perfectly just like the color of her skin and richness of her voice. Yeah… Arizona Robbins is a goner.

* * *

"What the hell is that banging?" Erica growls, the pillow folded over her ears not cutting the sound enough to let her sleep. April Kepner just shrugs, knowing its safer to not say anything to the pissy blonde. It's been a rough six days being Hahn's roommate, but the redhead is almost at the end and really _really _wants to live. …She's made it this far already, to trip up so close to the finish line would be cruel.

Pushing off the bed and stumbling around the mattress, the ex-captain rips back the curtains of their room window and her eyes fall upon two figures running around the basketball court just below. At first glance, it's of no real interest to Erica but then a sleek body is illuminated by the lone street lamp and something funny happens in Hahn's stomach. The way the tall, well built body moves as they push past the smaller body makes some part of her quiver.

Only when the person scores and turns to rub it in to their opponent does Erica make out of the face of Callie Torres. Anger rages through the blonde's veins as she watches, who she now sees is Arizona Robbins, playfully shove the Latina back towards the 3 point line before checking the basketball and playing another point. Both women are topless, save for sweat drenched sports bras, and both have the same intense look on their faces.

Erica doesn't even notice April has moved until the redhead squeaks "I wanna play!"

Hahn's jaw clenches and she drops the window curtain back into place. "You don't play for their team…" She sneers, then climbs back into bed knowing full well sleep will avail her tonight.

* * *

"Come on, Boss. I know you got more than that." Arizona breathes out, matching her captain step for step as Callie pushes towards the basket.

"I don't want to hurt your pretty face, Robbins." Callie bites back, then fakes left before pivoting on her right foot and shooting a fade away, the ball circling the rim before falling through. "Oh! So sweet…" The Latina calls, keep her arm up in the air to show off.

"Ass on the line, Torres." The blonde replies chucking the ball back to her roommate. Both are panting and sweating, but loving this degree of competition between them. Neither of them are allowing themselves to think about how close they are to one another, half their bodies exposed and the touch of the other making them sizzle.

"18, 14." The catcher states. "You ready for me?"

Arizona widens her stance and readies her hands. "Bring it on, Nancy."

"Getting a little testy there, New Girl…" Torres plays, loving the way she is able to push the blonde's buttons without really pissing her off too much. This is the kind of thing Callie has been wanting to happen. Something for the two of them to just... relax and let loose. Let their real personalities fly. And right now, Callie is loving competitive, cheeky and sweaty Arizona.

The Latina drives past the blonde, easily brushing off Arizona's block and scoring again which elicits a string of mumbled curse words from the losing party. Finally it comes down to game point, Arizona down by one and having possession. She needs to score two in a row to win, and the pressure is on.

"Come at me, baby…" Callie challenges, taking her strong stance in front of her team mate. Robbins makes a break for it, but Torres is a professional athlete, she learns from her competition. So when Arizona fakes, Callie goes the opposite way and stays with the blonde. Arizona tries to force her way in, but the Latina's strong stance doesn't allow it. Not being one to back down, the pitcher decides to play hard and barrels through the block.

But as Arizona goes airborne and runs into Callie, Torres falls back onto the ground hard, the pitcher landing on top of her. In an instant, their air of eased friendship has evaporated and that lurking sexual tension replaces it. Slick stomach rests on slick stomach and chocolate eyes stare up into shocked blue ones. Both are breathing hard, harder now even though they have stopped moving.

"S'rry…" Arizona breathes out, but makes no attempt to move.

"It's ok." Callie manages to reply even though her heart is racing and a beautifully toned thigh is placed in a very… intimate location. The two stare at each other, and the battle rages within both. Words make their way onto the Latina's tongue and before she can stop herself, she says "Go out with me."

It's like a pick ax stabbing away at her walls, but somehow the dam holds and Arizona pushes off her catcher. She wants to say yes. Of course she wants to say yes. Who wouldn't want to go out with Calliope Torres? But… Arizona can't. She can't say yes because she knows what will happen. It's the same that has happened to the rest of her life. It will start out great, but then… just implode. And both will be hurt, and take everything around them down with the ship. Namely, the team.

Game forgotten, Arizona stumbles to find her shirt and cover her body that seems so much more exposed than it did just a minute now. Callie sits up, silently chastising herself for asking again. The blonde was happy and laughing two seconds ago, and now? She's running away to find more bricks and cement to reinforce those barricades she has around her heart.

Just as Arizona is heading for the hotel, the Latina stands and exclaims "I was married!" The blonde stops in her tracks, then slowly turns to look at the half naked and very sweaty goddess incarnate. Dark eyes cut through the darkness and bore into Robbins' soul, pleading for a chance.

"I was married… and then… then he cheated on me with his best friend." Callie admits. "I'm not even 25 year and already I'm a divorcee. I went to college for Hotel Administration even though what I really want to do is sing and cook. I want to open my own restaurant, one where aspiring singers and musicians can come and let their talent be heard. …I have a sister who… isn't dead. Even though there have been many times I wished she were because my parents love her more than me."

Arizona stands frozen still, trying to take in fact after fact after fact Callie is giving. "In school I was that nerd in the back of the class who chewed on her hair. …I had a unibrow. …I've only been with one woman, and she messed me up good. But then I got better. …And I hated my name my whole life. I still do… except, every time you call me Calliope, I hate it just a little bit less. …And I hurt you, Arizona. I hurt you deeply. And for that, I am so sorry." The twenty feet separating them seems like a mile, and neither make a move to cross it.

"I'm not perfect, Arizona. …I know that. I've made mistakes. …God, so many mistakes." That rich voice cracks with emotion as Arizona drops her gaze from the Latina. "I haven't experienced the kind of pain you have, but I've experienced pain. We all have. That's part of life. That's part of being alive. …But what makes it better, what makes it all worth it is finding that person who will hold your hand through it all. You just have to give them a chance, Arizona. Let them show you that… they aren't like everyone else. Give me a chance…" A beat passes, and Callie isn't sure if she is expecting a response or not. She never expected to let all of this out but… it just happened. Maybe if Arizona knows some of her pains, some of her failures, it would help. …Maybe.

* * *

The last day the women are stateside is full of publicity spots and sponsor endorsements. No working out, no practice, no weight lifting. All they do is smile and thank those who have helped them get to where they are. Nerves are starting to pick up again and everyone is feeling the electricity. Tomorrow… after a nice 7 hour plan ride, they will have their shoes on English soil. They will be one of the many thousand Olympians hoping to make their countries proud by fighting hard and giving it their all.

Which means that the last night they are stateside, it's party time. After a long day, Team USA dresses up in their best going out clothes and hits the town. After months and months and months of working and sweating and crying and bleeding, they've made it. Of course, the biggest, most intense part is yet to come. But they have decided to celebrate the fact that the trip is nearly complete, and the destination is clearly in their sights.

So now Callie finds herself in the middle of a screaming club, music blaring and bodies grinding against each others. Because of her last little alcohol adventure, plus the fact that she and Arizona have been dancing around each other all day again, the Latina decides to stick with mineral water for the night. But Arizona has other plans, no… she's worked hard. And now she's going to play hard.

The blonde is just getting a firsthand lesson in 'dancing it out' from Yang and Grey out on the dance floor when a slightly tipsy redhead takes a seat next to the very observant Latina. There are only a handful of women on the team that would notice their captain leering at Robbins, and one of those just happens to be Addison Montgomery. She and Teddy have been placing wagers all week, ever since the duo were forced to room together, on whether they would cave or not. And who would make the first move. But so far, Arizona hasn't revealed a word and Callie is just as tight lipped as the blonde.

"Thought you'd be neck deep in tequila by now." Addison practically yells to be heard over the music but just gets a shrug of the shoulders in response. "You know… it's not attractive to pine." This gets a response and brown eyes roll in their sockets until reaching amused green ones.

"Is it that obvious?" Callie asks, shifting closer so she doesn't have to yell. A longing sigh worthy enough of the big screen falls from plump lips and her gaze falls back on the dancing and twirling blonde. "I kissed a peads surgeon… and I liked it." A smirk starts to cross her face as memories of those few kisses replies in her mind. "I liked it a lot."

"Oh, gag." Addison growls, then slams her empty glass on the table while signaling for a waitress.

"What? I thought you were all for this?" Torres states, giving her friend a confused look.

"Yeah but… watching you drool over Robbins? Hearing you talk about how her lady lips tasted is not helping my dry streak any. It's just sorta mean. It's sort of like bringing a 6 pack to an AA meeting." The redhead answers, quickly grabbing her fresh drink and swallowing down the numbing alcohol. All Callie can do is laugh at her friend and turn her attention back to Arizona.

Hours pass, and drinks flow readily. But soon Callie has to play the bad guy and breaks up the party. After all, they do have to be at the airport bright and early tomorrow morning. So when the tab is paid off they all saunter back to their hotel room. Arizona has a very wonderful buzz going, playing on that fine of drunk and plastered. During their walk back to the hotel, she and Teddy used each other to keep up right, while Addison used Callie as a walking stick.

When in the elevator, Arizona starts to sway and nearly topples over as the carriage kicks to life. Thankfully a strong captain was standing right next to her and caught her, the rest of the team who were able to fit breaking into a loud round of laughter. Tears fall and sides' cramp, but finally they all spill out of the elevator and start to shuffle to their rooms. Callie hangs back with Arizona for a minute while the pitcher attempts to get her foot back in her shoe, but the moving floor doesn't help the process at all.

Finally they step off and Callie sees nearly everyone has already made it to their rooms, leaving the hallway empty. Even though they've been in the same room the entire six days they've been here in Miami, when it comes to going left or right, Arizona turns the wrong way.

"Woah woah woah…" Callie says, laughing to herself. "We're this way, Battleship." Sky blue eyes twinkle and a giggle falls from pink lips as Arizona corrects her course and falls into step next to the Latina. Their pace is slow, but apparently it's still too fast for the intoxicated blonde because she slips her arm through Callie's and slows.

"I think you're drunk." Torres states with a playful tone, looking down and seeing a dimpled grin.

"Calliope…" Arizona chastises, bringing a finger up in front of the captains face. "I don't get drunk. …I get awesome." And even without the slightest trace of alcohol in her system, Callie starts laughing her ass off.

"Awesome, huh?" The Latina asks as she slips their key into the mechanism, the door swinging open.

"Don't deny it, Calliope… I'm super awesome." The blonde's drawls, shuffling into the room, bouncing off each wall and stumbling over the cushion armchair before plopping down on the mattress. "Chairs are bullies… and the walls get in the way." She whines, which makes Callie laugh all over again. The catcher hops around on one foot, then the other, as she peels way too high heels off her tired feet, all the while blue eyes stay trained on her.

"Calliope…" Arizona whispers just loud enough to catch Torres's attention. "Calliope…" She whispers again, each time making the fluttering in the Latina's stomach worse. "Calliope… Calliope…"

Slowly crossing the room, approaching the inebriated blonde, Callie asks "Is there a reason you keep saying my name?"

"You said…" A hand wipes at numb lips and Arizona pushes herself into the sitting position, her world spinning for a second and she waits until it stabilizes again before continuing. "You said… every time I say your name, you hate it just a little bit less. So if I say it enough… you won't hate it."

A blush races up a caramel neck, embarrassment prickling the captain. She didn't expect Arizona to talk about their 'talk' again, just like Arizona hasn't talked about the night Callie held her while she cried, or the night Arizona fell asleep in her arms after the horror movie. But apparently alcohol dulls the blonde's filter quite well.

"Uhh… Yeah. Yeah, I said that." Callie answers, trying to find something in the room to hold her attention besides the swirling pools of blue right in front of her. "Sometimes I get started talking and I say way more than I should."

A beat of silence, then the pitcher muses "The past can hurt… But the way I see it, you can either run from it, or learn from it." Brown connect with blue, and then something clicks in Callie's brain.

"Wait a minute… you totally stole that from The Lion King." Torres states accusingly. As hard as Arizona tries, her straight face cracks and she falls into a fit of giggles back on the bed. A feeling of relief floods the Latina, grateful that whatever kind of serious conversation they were about to have seeming to dissipate. Kneeling down, Callie starts pulling off one of blonde's shoes, and then the other, Robbins seemingly content to pass out in her full outfit.

When Callie is back on her feet, blue eyes are shut and the catcher assumes the alcohol has finally won over. So she scoops up the pitchers legs and rotates her so she is fully on the bed. But when she is bent over Arizona trying to reach for the blonde's phone so it doesn't get lost in the pile of sheets, a fair hand fists the front of Torres's shirt and yanks her down on top of Arizona.

"Woah!" Callie yelps, bracing herself on either side of Robbins' head.

"You're gorgeous, Calliope…" Arizona breathes out, blue staring up and connecting with rich brown eyes. "And I can't stop thinking about you. No matter how hard I try…" Callie can feel herself breaking, splitting in two for this woman below her. These are the words she's wanted to hear for a very long time, and Arizona urges her lower and lower onto the pitcher's body.

"Kiss me…" The blonde breathes out. Plump, delicious lips press softly on the pair below, and both let out a moan of satisfaction. It starts slow, getting reacquainted with each other. Then it builds, Callie's body weight resting fully on Arizona and fair hands tangling into raven locks. Robbins nips at the woman's lower lip, eliciting a hiss from the Latina. A tongue seeks access and the other complies. Breathing becomes rapid and that haze Arizona had going quickly dissolves as the miraculous woman on top of her starts to grind her hips into the blondes.

"Wait. Wait, no. Wait." Callie murmurs pulling away. "I can't. We can't do this."

"Why not?" Arizona asks, arching up to meet those lips again and succeeding only to have Torres pull away the next second.

"We can't do this, Arizona. Not like this. Not tonight." Even as she is saying them, she wants to smack herself in the face with a truck. "You're drunk and I'd be-"

"I'm not drunk." Robbins retaliates, which gets a questioning raised eyebrow from the woman above her. "I'm not. Watch. Hydrogen, Helium, Lithium, Beryllium, Boron, Carbon, Nitrogen, Oxygen, Fluorine, Neon, Sodium, Mag-"

"Are you _really _listing the Periodic Table of Elements?" Callie asks, a smile on her face because of the sheer adorableness that is Arizona Robbins going into full on geek mode.

"In atomic number order." The blonde adds. "I could do it alphabetically if you'd prefer." She states in full earnestness.

A chuckle falls from plump lips, Callie shaking her head and smiling. "You are such a dork."

"Sober dork." Arizona corrects, then reaches up and cups Torres's face, pulling her down for another soft kiss. "Sober dork who knows what she wants. …I want you. I've always wanted you." Another kiss, this one more pressing, more passionate as lean legs wrap themselves around Callie's hips, pulling their heated centers closer together. A fresh wave of hormones wash over the Latina and it's nearly enough to make her throw her earlier convictions out the window.

But finally, she pulls away and says "Not this way, Arizona. I can't." Blue eyes darken instantly and Callie can literally hear the wounded woman's thoughts. Thoughts of being let down again, someone leaving her. So she quickly adds "I want to. …God, Arizona, I want to. But we do this now and… it's meaningless. It's just a… a fling. It's casual. …I've done casual sex before. I don't want casual with you. I want the real deal. …Whenever you're ready. …I'll wait." Five seconds pass, and silence. Ten seconds, and still all Arizona does is stare up at the catcher above her. Callie can sense that those walls are going up and knows that's when the blonde wants to be left alone.

She tries to stand up, to get out of this very compromising position the two of them are in but a strong grip on the front of her shirt keeps Callie in place. "Ask me again." Arizona commands in a soft, yet firm tone. Brown eyes go wide, wondering if what she heard was actually what the blonde said. "Ask me again, Calliope." The pitcher says again.

"Go out with me." Torres whispers, the same exact words as the first time she asked.

"…Ok." Arizona answers, a streak of fear and a streak of excitement racing through her at the exact same moment.

"Yeah?" Callie asks, her mega watt smile shining down on the blonde below her.

"Yeah. …Definitely." The surgeon says, tracking the Latina as her lips slowly make their way back down onto hers. Before their kiss connects, the buzzing of Torres's phone pulls them apart, a very angry sounding growl coming from deep within Callie's chest. Arizona unlocks her legs from her captain's hips and the catcher nearly races to the item, ripping it open and barking a greeting.

Five minutes later, Callie apologizes one more time for the less than pleasant hello to Webber and turns to face the blonde still on the bed. "Apparently there is a storm blowing in tomorrow so we have to be…" But her words fade out as she notices Arizona completely out of it. Blonde hair strewn all about and her body completely lax, evening clothes and all. Disappointment pulls painted red lips into a slight frown, Callie afraid that whatever just happened, whatever wall she just knocked down tonight, will be built higher and stronger tomorrow morning when the remnants of alcohol leaving Arizona's body. Will the pitcher say it was just the wine? Will she even remember this conversation, will she remember saying yes?

Torres quickly changes into her pajama's and flicks off the bathroom light, sending the room into darkness. Her still made bed, untouched going on three days now, looks cold and unwelcoming. It'd be so easy to just slip in next to Arizona, to sleep next to the blonde one more night. The thought makes another image form in her mind, one where they share a bed… but it's not to sleep. Callie's body aches for more of the pitchers touch, and her blazing center is yelling at her for being so nice. What if tonight, in a haze of alcohol, emotions and hormones, was her only chance at ever being with Arizona in that way? What if the blonde wakes up tomorrow and changes her mind? There's a lot of what if's. What if Arizona's brother never enlisted, never went overseas? Or, what if he had actually come home, alive? What would that Arizona be like, the one who still had a brother, a family? Still had a girlfriend?

There are so many what if's. So many holes in the blonde's heart, and Callie isn't sure even she can fix her. The Latina wants Arizona to be happy, and she wants to be the reason. So… even though life is a series of 'what if's' and 'if only's', she keeps hope. Because… after all, Arizona did say yes. And Callie has to believe that that means something, that there is a chance at opening the wounded woman's heart and filling in all those holes that seeped into Arizona's soul.

So with a confident smile, Callie kneels next to the passed out woman and covers her as much as possible. Sweeping blonde hair out of the way, plump lips press softly on a dimpleless cheek and she whispers "Sleep tight, Arizona. …And I'm holding you to your yes." With that, Callie climbs into her own bed and lays so she is facing her pitcher. A fresh wave of hope fills her, a fluttering in her heart making her feel invincible. Because… maybe it's not always about trying to fix something broken. Maybe it's about starting over and creating something better.

* * *

AN2: Progress? Seems so… Will Arizona remember what happened when she wakes up? Will she be ok with it, or will she be upset and run away again? London is right around the corner, and the Games not much further. Lots of drama can still happen… and drama always happen when it comes to a group of women. Stay tuned. And thanks again for your support!


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: Just want to reiterate AGAIN that I have no idea how the Olympics work back stage. I've tried searching for information about regulations and lodging and down time and drug testing but it seems the IOC is pretty tight lipped about that stuff. Anyways, that being said, I am using the format for competition from the 2008 games, were softball was still in the Olympics. And I was able to find a few pics of the Olympic Village (where the athletes, coaches, and staff stay). That being said, it's still pretty vague so I am claiming literary license. Also… it's been years since I've been to London so again, I'm going off of what I find online. If anything is incorrect, please forgive me. Thanks. Now Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 22

"Ok… Ok… Just breathe. Just breathe, you're alright…" Arizona mumbles to herself as she tries to keep calm. Fellow teammates and passengers are getting situated all around her, but blue eyes remain clamped shut. The blonde's stomach has been in knots since waking up and even though it's nearing noon, she hasn't eaten a single thing. Though last night's activities and unknown amount of white wine mixed with occasional shots of tequila probably hasn't helped matters, Arizona Robbins fear of flying has crippled her body.

Callie is one of the last on the team to board, and as she moves down the aisle into coach, she finds a very pale looking Arizona. When they woke up this morning, the catcher tried to gauge the woman's memory of last night's… happenings. But it seemed like her roommate had bigger things on her mind, namely trying not to throw up into her suitcase. And seeing Arizona like this right now is only making Callie more nervous. But just as she is about to reach the vacant seat next to the scared woman, Lexie Grey plops down in it and starts buckling up.

Twenty minutes later and most of the airplane is full, passengers seated and buckled up ready for takeoff. Arizona has continued her slow, steadying breathing and continues to mumble calming words to herself. She even chances a peek out the window, the skies of Miami grey and foreboding. It didn't help matters that their flight was delayed several hours due to weather, and now all the blonde can think about is that this big tin can will be flying straight into the eye of some sort of tropical hurricane. Because really… the only thing missing in her life right now is a freak plane crash. That would put the cherry on the sundae.

From the opposite side of the cabin, and three rows back, Callie strains in her seat to try and get a peak at Arizona but all she can see is the back of her head. Lucy Fields has been chatting non-stop for the past few minutes, content with the occasional hums and mumbled words from her captain to keep going. But the Latina hasn't really been listening, instead her thoughts remaining squarely with the woman just out of eyesight.

When the flight attendant starts moving down the aisle, making sure everyone is strapped in, Callie's instincts take over and bolts from her seat. She crosses the middle aisle of seats and approaches Arizona's and Lexie's bench from behind.

Tapping Lexie softly, getting her attention without disturbing the meditating woman next to her, Callie says "How about you and I switch?" Little Grey bits her lip, looking back at the vacated seat across the way. Knowing her teammate is a very strict rule follower, the Latina adds "She asked about our teams stats and… well, you know, you're better than the playbook. Thought you could maybe help her out." A smile crosses Lexie's lips, happy that her captain thought of her when a member of their team needed help.

"Sure." Little Grey says, collecting her paraphernalia and moving further back into the cabin. Only when Arizona feels the presence of a different body, a warmer, more inviting body, does she open her eyes again. Next to her, instead of Lexie, she finds a goddess smiling back at her.

"You're… You're not Lexie." Arizona mumbles, peeking over her shoulder to try and find were her neighbor just disappeared to.

"You're very observant, Dr. Robbins." Callie replies playfully in hopes to ease the anxiety of the blonde. "We switched. I thought maybe you could use some… company." The roar of an engine starting up cuts the blonde's witty comeback off, Arizona's body tensing and her hands gripping the armrests. "Looking a little pale there, Battleship."

"Next time I decide to get drunk… shoot me." The blonde growls, her stomach clenching and head pounding just at the thought of another drink. A deep chuckle finds Arizona's ears and she looks over to find her captain laughing to herself. "What's so funny?"

"I thought Arizona Robbins doesn't get drunk. …She gets awesome." Torres replies, the chuckle morphing into a full on belly laugh when blue eyes roll in their socket. The plane starts to taxi along the runway, stopping just at the end and prepares for takeoff. Vibrations from the engine revving jolts through the cabin and the blonde tenses even more. "Not a fan of flying I guess."

"I can handle flying." Arizona replies, taking a deep breath and forcing her eyes back open. Turning her head to the side and meeting warm, concerned brown eyes, she adds "It's the crashing and burning I'm not too fond of." Just then, the captain lets go of the breaks and their plane starts to barrel down the run way. The pitcher hand that was clenching the armrest between Arizona and Callie lets go and finds the Latina's. Dark eyes drop to the neutral zone between them, their joined hands a sight that makes Torres's heart smile. Even if she had something to say, Callie wouldn't be heard over the rumble of the plane around them so instead the Latina squeezes Arizona's hand back, letting the blonde know she is there.

Only when the plane starts to level off, G's lifting off their stomachs and the roar of the airplane fighting gravity, does Arizona realize she is crushing her catcher's hand. "Oh uh… so-sorry…" The blonde mumbles, letting go of the tanned hand that was her life raft for a very long and stressful minute.

Callie smiles, keeping her arm on the armrest even though the other woman pulled away like she had the plague, and says "I wasn't complaining." Arizona doesn't respond but just gives a forced smile and then opens her notebook in her lap. Right there Callie knows that that is her sign to lay off, so instead of pushing, the Latina pops her ear buds in her ear and cranks up her tunes, preparing for a long, and possibly awkward flight.

* * *

About five hours into the flight, Callie slinks down the narrow aisle and retakes her seat after successfully using the tiny bathroom. When she left, Arizona seemed to be asleep but now bright blue eyes lock onto brown as the Latina reaches their bench. The blonde sends her catcher a dimpled smile before turning her gaze back out the window, large fluffy clouds looking like marshmallows being cut by the plane's wings.

"You're looking better." Callie says as she retakes her seat. "Doesn't look like you're about to pass out at any second." She adds, sending the blonde next to her a playful wink. A blush rips across Arizona's face, and the butterflies in her stomach start to flutter away. Broken images of last night play across her vision, and she's not sure which are real and which are the products of dreams dripping with alcohol.

"Last night…" The pitcher starts, chewing on the inside of her cheek and trying to force herself to meet Torres's gaze. "…we… we didn't…" Callie doesn't say anything, wanting to know what exactly Arizona remembers without any help. "Did we umm…" Cerulean orbs lock onto warm chocolate and a wave of embarrassment washes over the blonde. "I made a complete ass out of myself, didn't I?"

A quiet chuckle turns plump lips up into a smile, Callie can't help finding Arizona's unbearable cute right now. "Complete? Nah. …Maybe just a little ass."

"Awesome." Robbins growls, a hand rubbing roughly at her face.

"So you… you don't remember? …Anything?" The Latina asks softly, her hope at ever getting that date with the woman deflating.

"Umm…" Arizona lets out a nervous laugh, that scene playing through her mind again. "I remember… some things, yes." Torres just nods as she twirls a lock of raven hair around her index finger. It's the one nervous tick she hasn't been able to break, stemming from all those awful years as the weird girl in elementary and middle school.

"Mainly making an ass out of myself." The blonde adds, shaking her head in embarrassment. This confuses the Latina and Callie glances to the woman seated next to her. Blue eyes lock with brown and Arizona adds "So I wanted to say I'm sorry. …You know, for ummm, for asking you to uhhh… well, thank you for turning me down. And I'm sorry that I put you in that position. I know it's… it's kind of complicated and confusing between us. I shouldn't have asked you to have sex with me last night. It was wrong and… unfair of me. So, I'm sorry."

Callie's shoulders slump, all hope fading from her body. Even though she knows it was wrong to expect a drunken woman to stand by her word, Torres somehow feels jilted. Arizona said yes. She said it. After all the craziness that had happened between them, the drama and the yelling and the stolen kisses… Arizona said yes. And then… with a night's worth of sleep, all that was taken away.

"It's…" Callie has to clear her throat to swallow all her emotions. She doesn't want Arizona to know how let down she is, because the only thing worse than Arizona not knowing she said yes is Arizona knowing she said yes and taking it back, having to say it was just the alcohol talking. Or the hormones that were raging between them. That would hurt more than anything.

"It's nothing. No big deal. You were ummm, you were drunk. It's alright." Turning to meet Arizona's gaze again, the Latina puts on her best fake smile. "Been in your shoes many times so… don't even worry about." The Latina's gaze quickly falls from the blonde's, not able to keep that lock without her true feelings threatening to fall from her eyes.

It'd be so easy to leave it at that, for Arizona to apologize for propositioning Callie and ignore the other elephant in the cabin. To just forget that Callie had asked her out again, and that Robbins had said yes. It'd be easy. Blame it on the alcohol. But the thing is… despite how messy and complicated it is, despite the rules and the pressure and the awful history Arizona has with anything remotely having to do with romantic relationships… she really _really _meant it when she said yes.

"I just…" Arizona starts again, but Callie isn't able to meet her gaze. So the blonde reaches over into the Latina's lap and takes a fidgeting hand in hers. "I hope your offer for our date still stands. …Because I'm really looking forward to it." Torres's neck snaps at the speed her head turns to look at the pitcher. A small smile makes its way onto pink lips as Arizona watches the defeat fade from Callie's face. "Just to warn you, I'm not an easy date. I need to be wooed. …Up for the challenge, Boss?"

In a millisecond all those feelings of hope comes rushing back to the Latina, a smile growing wider than ever before pulls at her lips. "Yeah… Yeah, definitely." The catcher squeezes Arizona's hand before the blonde pulls away just as Cristina Yang comes walking down the narrow aisle. They share a smile, one that lasts until the captain's seat is bumped into by the refreshment cart, breaking their contact. Nerves prickle in the pit of both women's stomachs for entirely different reasons. Callie knows that she has one shot at this, at their date. Being on foreign soil doesn't help much, at least in Miami she had home court advantage. But the Latina is dead set on making their date the best first date in recorded history.

As Callie gives her drink order, blue eyes turn back out to the passing clouds, the sun still high in the sky which further messes with the blonde's internal body clock. Arizona tries not to think about her past, but instead of enjoying the present. She has so much working for her these days, hell… she's on a plane bound to London for the Olympics. She gets to represent her great country in a worldwide competition. Arizona should be proud. She got asked out by, what is arguably, the most beautiful woman in the world. …On multiple occasions. She should be ecstatic. But… there is so much hurt in her past that it's hard to think the future will be any different. Arizona wants to believe that not everything she touches will fall apart, that there is some sort of happiness out there waiting for her. It's just hard sometimes.

But when the sound of a goddess laughing her warm, heart filled laugh catches her attention, Arizona looks over at her catcher and finds that earth shattering smile. She watches as Callie chats and laughs with the flight attendant, offering some sort of joke or comment that makes the stranger laugh. The way warmth exudes from the strong and shapely woman is almost enough to give the blonde hope. And when a tanned hand places a cup of ginger ale on Arizona's tray, a deep chocolate wink being sent her way, Arizona thinks that maybe this is the happiness that was waiting for her. Maybe this woman, a woman who she would have never met had not all the terrible things happened in Arizona Robbins life happened to her, is the light at the end of the long, dark tunnel. …Then again, maybe it's not the end of the tunnel. Maybe that light isn't the sun. Maybe that light at the end of the tunnel is, in fact, an oncoming train. …Maybe.

* * *

The next few days pass by the women in a blur. The excitement, mixed with nerves and the remnants of jet lag are all anyone feels as they get settled in Olympic Village. Team USA are allotted four suites within the complex, being neighbors with other USA teams as well as a host of other nationalities all around. The mood around the area, and London in general, is buzzing. Everyone can't wait for the Games to kick off, and for the people of the world to watch as their greatest athletes compete in the most glorious off all competitions.

The morning of the third day they are there, Team USA is taking the field for a scheduled practice. Sixteen teams have to share just two fields, so practice times are strictly enforced. Webber is sure to use up every minute in hopes of working out as much of the nerves as his team can. When his team stepped onto the field the first day in London, all eyes went wide at the sight of the complex. They are definitely not in Oklahoma anymore. Professionally cared for grass, expertly drug dirt. Bases so white that you need a pair of sunglasses to look at them. Even those who have played college ball, who made it to the national championships, are in awe. This is their stage. This is where they are going to become a part of history.

But now some of that shock has dissipated, the women are working on their skills. Hunt is barking commands and sending ground balls left and right, players moving with practiced ease to field them and fire them around the horn. Shepard is stationed at the practice nets where a couple players are taking their turns getting some cuts in. And Coach Sloan stands, bouncing on the balls of his feet, as he watches his top two pitchers work with their catchers. Both blondes are feeling good, and Callie is feeling like she is at home in this Olympic arena. It just… fits. And she knows that bodes well for everyone.

Signaling for a drop, Callie hops up onto her toes and gets set. Arizona winds up and sends the ball flying, it's trajectory tipping down just as it nips the bottom edge of the batter's box. Any batter from any team would have difficulty chasing a pitch like that.

"Nice." Mark states evenly. "Looking good Blondie."

"Thanks Coach." Arizona replies, then sets up and sends another heater to her catcher, the sharp smack of leather hitting leather ringing like music in Callie's ears. The two haven't really talked since their flight together, but whenever they catch the other staring at them, they share a smile typical of love drunk middle schoolers.

"Bring it in, ladies!" Webber hollers when their practice time is drawing to a close. When his team circles around him, he continues "Alright… just to keep everyone in the loop, the eight teams this year are us, Poland, Russia, Brazil, Japan, the Netherlands, Canada and Great Britian." As their coach lists their opponents, everyone start to stack up the teams against their own, figuring out who is the greatest threat.

"First round is a round robin, with the top four teams moving on to the next round. That means we will be playing 7 games in four days so I shouldn't have to tell you to keep yourselves healthy. Stay on sidewalks, don't eat anything questionable, make sure you drink water, all that jazz alright?" Again all his players nod in agreement. "Now… tomorrow is the opening ceremony. You all have your uniforms, and know where to be and when. So, as long as you all promise not to do anything stupid, like leap off the Tower Bridge, you're dismissed."

"Wait… like, we can leave?" April asks with a smile on her face and bouncing excitedly.

"As long as you take care of yourselves, get Karev and Avery to give you your treatments, get some sleep… yes. You are free to do as you wish until you ladies are due at Opening Ceremony tomorrow afternoon." Webber states, a smile growing on his face as the news filters into the minds of his team. For too long they have been all about work and no play, but now that they are this close he figures a little freedom right now will be exactly what his team needs to overcome the nerves and get them focused again once competition starts.

The team breaks up, everyone eager to pack up and get back to their rooms to shower and change before striking out and exploring London. Callie hangs back, slowly packing her gear away in her bag and chatting with Sloan. After dropping her stuff off in USA's storage unit, the Latina shuffles off to the small training room within the softball complex and gets in line. Both Alex Karev and Jackson Avery work quickly at getting the women what they need, whether it's some STEM therapy for a tired muscle, or an ice pack for an achy joint. Arizona quickly fills one of the metal high metal bath tubs with ice and turns on the cold water tap, blue eyes finding the captain that just entered the area.

Robbins quickly strips her sweaty shirt and dirty shorts, then lowers herself into the frigid waters. The ache in her shoulder starts to lessen, as well as the overall weariness of her body. She closes her eyes as the pain starts to set in, but it's a pain that will help in the end. At least this pain is physical.

Once Callie gets her knees wrapped, large bags of ice under layer after layer of plastic wrap freezing her tired joints, the Latina shuffles over to the shaking blonde.

Tapping Arizona on the shoulder, blue eyes snap open and immediately find the catcher's gaze. "H-hey…" Arizona stammers, teeth chattering as she nears the four minute mark of her torture.

"Hi." Callie replies, then sits on the lip of another tub and repositions her own treatment. "So… guess we have a free day today." Dimples pop as Arizona smiles. "Kind of reminds me of senior skip day." She adds. When the blonde's brow furrows in confusion, Callie explains "You know, at the end of your senior year everyone just skips school one day and goes to a carnival or amusement park… And it's not like you can get in trouble for it, because everyone does it. …Didn't you have that?"

"No. No, I graduated in Italy. It's kind of hard to skip school when your school is on a Navy base." The blonde answers, adding yet another layer of unknown for Callie to try and peel away.

"Anyways…" Callie drawls, suddenly feeling very nervous. She already got her yes, and what's better is the fact that Arizona remembered she said yes. But then why does it feel like she's asking all over again.

Plucking up her courage and putting on her best confident smile, Torres asks "Would you like to go with me? Today?"

"Are you cashing in on our date?" Arizona asks playfully.

"Yes. Yes, I am." The Latina answers, a weight lifting from her shoulders at the fact that Arizona didn't cut her down immediately. "I mean… it's not like I have anything planned. But, I don't know… we could just explore London together. Do all those goofy touristy photos. …Maybe get you one of those big British flag hats to wear."

"Just me?" The blonde questions, blue eyes shining in amusement.

"I sure as hell ain't wearing one of them!" Callie replies, making both laugh out loud and drawing the attention from the few teammates left within the training room, namely Erica Hahn. Brown meet steel blue and Callie doesn't miss the snarling of crooked lips before Hahn is able to cover her emotions with a blank expression.

Lowering her voice, Callie turns her attention back to Arizona, the woman too preoccupied from the freezing bath to notice the quick exchange between two ex-best friends. "So… yes? You and me? London?" The catcher asks.

"Yeah, definitely."Arizona states, a big, if chattering, smile on her face.

"Ok, great. So I'll ummm… I'll meet you in, say… an hour and a half?" Torres asks, backing out of the room, but not before nervously bumping into a table, and then a chair. The catcher wants to smack herself for being so clumsy, but there is something about the smile that Arizona is giving her that makes all her muscles and limbs go all jelly like.

"See ya then, Boss." Robbins replies, sending the jittery woman a wink that makes Callie blush brightly. With one last bump into the door jam, Torres smiles and waves, then cuts her losses and leaves, but not before hearing the signature giggle of Arizona Robbins.

* * *

"You about ready?" Teddy calls from the bathroom of their little apartment in Olympic Village, Arizona rifling through her very small wardrobe she packed in her suitcase as she tries to find something to wear on her date.

The apartment is small, made up of two bedrooms that house two twin beds each, and a central living area. It's much like what the women stayed in during the long weeks of summer practice, but only smaller. Much smaller. And instead of having two bathrooms for four people, they only have one. But… considering how many people this complex has to hold, it works. Plus no one plans on spending too much time in their rooms doing anything other than sleeping.

Teddy comes striding back into their shared bedroom and finds a half naked blonde mumbling to herself. "You alright?" She asks, pulling a t-shirt out of her own bag and quickly changing.

"Huh? Oh, yeah… I'm good." Arizona replies, then decides on a pair of denim shorts.

"So, Addison was thinking we'd start at the far side of the city and work our way back over." The first baseman says after a beat of silence. "So far it's us, Addison, Naomi, maybe Bailey. Kepner and Avery. …I think there is something going on there, don't you?" When Arizona doesn't reply, Teddy keeps rambling. "Karev, maybe Hunt. …Do you have any money yet? I don't. I need to get some. Will our atm cards work here?" Still, all she gets is silence from a distracted Robbins, and this raises a couple flags in Altman's brain. "Arizona… Arizona!"

"What?" The blonde asks, whirling around to face her roommate. "What's up, Teds?"

"Are you about ready to go? You've spent an hour staring at four tops." The taller woman states, a smile puling at her lips.

"Umm… you guys go without me." Arizona says, turning back to her miniscule wardrobe and settling on a light, long sleeved light blue top.

"You're not staying here, are you?" Teddy asks, even though she is pretty sure she knows the answer already.

"No." Robbins answers shortly.

"Then..." Altman drawls, pieces fitting together in a second. A smile forms on her face and she asks "You and Torres finally pull your heads out of your asses?" Blue eyes whip around, a look of shock on Arizona's face being all Teddy needs in confirmation. "Bout time… Really, Addison and I have been waiting for it to happen."

"We… we're not… that's not what-" Arizona starts to babble but the hard look from her friend stops her in her tracks. "It's just a… date. That's all. Not even a real date. I mean… we're in London, for god's sakes! Who has their first date in London?"

"Londoners." Teddy answers pointedly but Arizona chooses to ignore it.

"It just… we're going sightseeing. …Together. …Alone. …Oh god, this is a date, isn't it?" The pitcher mumbles, those nerves and butterflies coming back tenfold. "No. No, nothing to worry about." Teddy laughs, loving this little show of panicky Arizona.

Grabbing her bag, checking to make sure she has everything, Teddy says "We'll you two kids have fun. I'll see you later." With that, the tall blonde starts out of the bedroom but stops at the threshold. Turning back, she adds "Hang a sock on the doorknob if you two decide to do some pound caking." Altman narrowly avoids a flying shoe aimed at her face, laughing as she crosses the living area and exits their quaint, temporary apartment.

Twenty minutes pass and Arizona changes her top five more times, finally settling back on the first light blue shirt she started with. She repacks her small, drawstring back pack twice just to make sure she has everything she needs before a rapping on the door makes her jump. She is the only one left in their apartment, both Yang and Meredith Grey having left within moments of getting back to the complex, so she exits her bedroom and crosses the clean living room.

Pulling open the door, her breath is taken away by the beauty that stands on the other side. That megawatt smile is on full display, silky shining hair flowing down in natural waves, long legs encased by perfectly fitting dark wash jeans, and a chest just aching to bust out of the stretched black top. Strong arms are on display as Callie has her sleeves scrunched up to just below her elbows, and in her hand is a perfectly folded origami flower.

"Hi." The Latina states after they both take a couple seconds to cruise the other up and down. As dark eyes follow long, smooth legs that seem to go on for miles, she is sure she'll need a mop to clean up all of her drool. How she never knew she had a thing for women's legs all these years, she'll never know. But Callie Torres is thankful that she can fully appreciate the sheer perfection of Arizona's in this moment, because really… Arizona's legs deserve to be gawked at.

"Hi." Arizona replies, pulling dark eyes back up to her face, but not before lingering a beat at the nice view of milky white breasts the plunging neckline of the light blue v-neck allows.

"Hi." Callie breathes out, all words leaving her mind.

"You said that already." Robbins teases, giggling slightly at the absurdity of the two of them in this moment.

"Right… Umm… Here." The Latina states, holding out the origami flower for the blonde. "I… I tried getting you the real thing but I couldn't find any."

"This is better." The pitcher replies, taking the flower and playfully smelling it. "It never dies. …Give me one second and I'll be right back." Hurrying back to her room, she places the flower on her bedside table and grabs her bag. One last check to make sure they have everything and Arizona exits the apartment, locking it behind her. Sharing an equally nervous look, they both turn and head for the stairs, anxious to start this date and find out where it will lead.

* * *

After a couple hours of walking around, making small talk and just taking in the new city, the couple end up at the London eye. Arizona stands at the base and turns her head upwards, that queasy feeling coming back to her just like it did during takeoff. Callie steps up next to the blonde, two tickets in hand, and follows her gaze up.

"It's not flying…" Callie states matter of factly.

"It's still… high." Arizona replies, getting dizzy and having to look back down to center herself.

"I thought it was the crashing and burning part you were afraid of. …Not the height." The Latina muses, running a hand down the pitchers back, playing across her hip and finding a hand before tugging the shorter woman into line.

Blue eyes survey the very large Farris wheel, and the waterway directly behind it. "Not a real big fan of crashing and drowning either…" The deep chuckle that falls from plump lips is too much for the blonde, and her dimples finally peek through. At the front of the line Callie hands over their two tickets and they step into one of the glass enclosed capsules. It's packed pretty well but they are able to get a piece of property right at the edge. Fair hands grip at the handlebar running around the cabin, knuckles turning whiter and whiter the higher they ascend along their path.

At about halfway up, Callie steps up behind the blonde and wraps her arms around the pitcher. Arizona relaxes instantly but keeps her grip on the bar in front of her. "Relax, Battleship." Callie whispers right into the other woman's ear, a shiver running down Arizona's spine in response. "I got you."

Leaning back into the larger woman's embrace, Arizona finally lets go of the bar and enjoys the view. From the very top they can see all of London, even the Olympic Village is visible far off in the distance. Callie wrangles another tourist couple to take a picture of her and Arizona, the skyscape of London behind them as a backdrop. Once back on terra firma, the duo head across the river and explore Westminster Abbey along with the throng of other sight seer's. At one point Arizona reaches over and grasps a tanned hand in hers, intertwining their fingers and marveling at how well they fit together. Callie doesn't mention it, but just smiles and squeezes tighter, keeping the blonde from pulling away.

During their outing, Arizona points out an open aired bakery and pulls Callie towards it, insisting that the best way to explore another city is through its food. They settle on two different things and take them to go as they continue their walk towards Buckingham Palace.

Taking a bite of her pastry, Callie emits a moan of pleasure that makes Arizona stop and look. "Wow… this is _so _good. You have to try this." The Latina insists, holding out the treat for the blonde to take a bite.

Her brow furrows, but she opens her mouth and takes a bite, her eyes rolling back in her head as soon as the sugary treat touches her tongue. "Oh my god…" She groans in a tone very similar to that of the Latina's.

"Good, right?" Callie asks, taking another bite while making sure to save enough for Arizona to have the last bite.

"It's like eating a fat angel." The blonde states, and right there Torres loses it. What starts as a giggle morphs into a chuckle, and then finally a full body laugh. Callie doubles over, her boisterous laugh catching the attention of everyone passing while Arizona giggles at the way her catcher is making a fool of herself. Every time Callie tries to get a hold of herself, she finds the dimpled grin staring at her and her mind replays what Arizona just said, and it's just as hilarious as the first time.

Tears stream down both faces as they keep goading each other on into another fit of hysterics. Arizona is sure that someone by now has called the police to come have two crazy women locked up, but she doesn't care. This is the first time in what seems like months that she has laughed. Like… actually laughed until she cried. Laughed until she couldn't breathe, until no sound comes from her mouth so she starts clapping her arms like a retarded seal. All the while, Callie is right in front of her, matching the blonde in her antics, a bright red flush coloring tanned cheeks and that megawatt smile shining for all of London to see.

"Ow…" Callie cries as the last wave of laughter starts to leave her body. She clutches at her side, a stitch so strong it makes her wince, while trying to suck in much needed oxygen. "Oh my god, you're killing me. Don't ever say that again." She tells the blonde who is mopping at her eyes, blue sparkling bright in the sunlight. Their breathing stabilizes and they fall into the sheepish silence, both looking at the other before bashfully looking away when caught.

Arizona's dimples, mixed with the still watery eyes and shining golden hair is just too much for Callie, and she reaches out to grab the light blue fabric of the pitchers shirt and pulls her in closer. Without a word, painted red lips dip down and find sugar tainted pink lips. Arizona wraps her arms around the taller woman's neck, pulling Callie in closer and deepening the kiss.

When they part, the catcher holds up the remaining bite of the tasty pastry and moves it towards Arizona's lips. The blonde opens her mouth but instead of feeding it to Robbins, Callie smears the sweet frosting over the woman's top lip, making Arizona laugh out loud.

"Oops…" Callie teases, giving a shrug of her shoulders while smiling at the woman who still has her arms wrapped around her. "Here, let me get that…" She purrs before moving back in and licking up the frosting before kissing the blonde again. To any passerby the couple would seem like a regular couple. Two women falling for one another, no weight of an entire nation on their shoulders, no pain, no nasty history. And to that person who raises their phone and snaps a picture, that's exactly what they think they are capturing.

* * *

The sun starts to set over the city of London and Arizona and Callie find a quiet little table outside at one of the many quaint restaurants that line one of the many river side streets. Both are worn out from walking around the grand city, and gladly await a delicious meal. Even though Arizona was nervous about this date, she is very thankful she said yes… and stuck to it. Seeing the sights, getting to spend some quality time with Torres has been just what she needed. The way the Latina is able to lift her spirits, say the right thing, or make the right move at just the right time is extraordinary. From the way the catcher hugged the blonde in the Eye, to kissing her at the apex of a romantic bridge, to acting like a complete idiot in hopes of getting one of the royal guards to smile… Arizona has seen a whole new side to the woman. And she likes it.

Callie watches as the blonde across from her stares off into the night, a breeze billowing golden hair and the faintest of smiles barely bringing those dimples to life. Londoners and tourists alike flock past them, bright double-decker buses and taxis fly up and down the street, and in the distance is the illuminated Tower Bridge sets the romantic scene. Even though there are so many sights to see, so much history to absorb and things to experience around her, the Latina can't pull her attention away from Arizona. She is a natural wonder in herself, and Callie finds something new and breathtaking about the blonde with each movement, each breath, and each word that falls from those deliciously perfect lips.

Only when the waiter returns with their glasses of wine, red for Callie and white for Arizona, does the pitcher realize she was lost in her own little world. "Sorry…" She whispers, blushing slightly and taking a sip of her drink. "You could have poked me."

"It's ok…" Callie replies, her eyes trained to the smooth neck as the blonde swallows her beverage. "…I was enjoying the view too."

Turning to look back out at the passing city in front of them, Arizona says "I never realized how much I missed traveling. Seeing new places? Soaking in the culture and the history? It's amazing."

"Did you move a lot?" Callie asks, sensing a perfect opportunity to delve a little deeper into Robbins past.

"Yeah, when my dad was active duty. Nine installations in just thirteen years. …My mom hated it." Arizona answers without even thinking about it. "But it was an amazing way to grow up. Not many people can say they've lived on every continent by the age of 12. …It was kind of sad when my dad retired, knowing that we wouldn't be moving on to the next station. Scary even, because we were stuck where we were. Not that Maryland wasn't a nice place for my parents to settle down, but… it's no Hawaii or Japan."

"What about you?" Callie asks. "Where do you call home these days?"

Taking a deep breath, Arizona replies "Well, before… everything… I was living in Baltimore, Maryland and completing my residency at Johns Hopkins. But now? Well… this table is as much home to me as anywhere else." She tries to keep the cynicism from her tone, but somehow it still manages to seep in. Forcing a cheerful smile on her face, the blonde turns the question back onto Callie. "What about you?"

"Miami, born and raised." The catcher states. "Even went to college there… you're a lot more interesting than I am, I guess." She laughs, then takes a sip of wine. Blue eyes stare at her, Arizona waiting for more but Callie doesn't offer. Setting her glass back down, the Latina sees the expectant look on the blonde's face and asks "What?"

"More." Arizona states pointedly.

"More…?" The catcher drawls in confusion.

"Yeah, tell me more." The blonde says matter of factly. "You know all these things about me but all I really know about you is that… you live in Miami, you play softball like a Haus, and you used to have a unibrow."

"Hey!" Callie snaps, looking around her to see if anyone had overheard. Lowering her voice and leaning over the table to whisper to Arizona, she adds "I told you that in confidence." Arizona just giggles but doesn't respond; instead crossing her arms and waits for the Latina to continue. "Fine. Ok, I have a sister. Older by four years. She has a husband and a family which makes my parents extremely happy while _I _on the other hand 'throw a ball around a field of dirt'. At least… that's what my father says anyways. He wants me to follow him into the family business but-"

"You want to open your own restaurant." Arizona cuts in, remembering that little factoid from their game of one on one.

"Right. But… that's right up there with being a softball player." Callie adds, taking a large swallow of her drink. "I don't know… sometimes I wonder if I could ever make my parents happy. It seems everything I do is a total let down to them. And they only know the half of it." Arizona's eyes narrow in confusion, silently asking what they don't know about that would make them even more disappointed but the Latina isn't about to get into _that _mess just yet. Or ever, if she has anything to say about it.

"Are they coming here for the Games?" Robbins asks as their food appears, delicious smells wafting up from the two beautiful plated meals set before them.

"Hell if I know. My Dad is all about business and my mother is all about… whatever the latest thing is. She cares more about her image than taking time out of her schedule to see me." The catcher answers. "What about your folks?"

Arizona lets out a bark of laughter. "Yeah, right." She growls sarcastically. "Get those two on the same plane and the cabin pressure would make it blow up like Pearl Harbor on December 7th. …The pilot would fly into the side of a mountain just to put the rest of the passengers out of their misery. …It's like World War III whenever they are within twenty feet of each other so I can't see how they would survive being in the same stadium for two weeks. And that's if they _had _the money to fly and stay here. Apparently it was much more important to spend every dime they had trying to screw the other out of everything they owned."

"I'm sorry…" Torres whispers, making blue eyes connect with hers.

In an instant, all that anger and pain recedes again and a soft smile forms on the pitchers face. With a shrug, Arizona replies "Me too. But… that's life I guess."

After a beat, Callie contemplating on whether she should say it or not, she finally adds "And I'm really sorry about your brother. I'm sure he was a really great person. …Or, as you would say, awesome."

A single chuckle comes from the blonde, and Arizona drops her eyes in attempt to stem the tears that have prickled behind cerulean orbs. "He was." She whispers.

The rest of their dinner passes and they soon find themselves walking back towards the Olympic Village. London is still very much alive even though the sun has long ago faded. A slight chill whips through the air, creating a blanket of goose bumps up and down Arizona's exposed legs. The shorter woman naturally moves in closer to Callie, linking an arm through the catchers and nuzzling into the Latina's warmth. Before they know it, they are back at the complex and Arizona pulls away from her catcher, putting some space between them. Torres frowns slightly, missing the contact of the blonde but doesn't say anything.

The trip up to their floor is silent, that awkward end-of-the-first-date feeling descending upon them. They reach Arizona's door first, and they both stand in front of it, looking at anything besides one another. Men and women from other teams and other countries walk by, the sound of music blaring comes from further on down the hall, and it is evident that someone is having a party in their apartment.

When a couple of guys go running down the length of the hallway without their shirts on, screaming in some unknown language, Arizona says "It's like being back in college…" Callie laughs, the tension breaking slightly and their gazes lock. "So…" She drawls.

"So…" Torres parrots.

"Now would usually be when I'd invite you in for a drink." Arizona says, nervously playing with her key. "But… all we have is water."

"I'd love a water." Callie replies, a big grin turning up painted red lips. The blonde smiles in return and, not so smoothly, unlocks the apartment. The two step into one of the thousand of identical lodgings and find themselves alone.

"Who you rooming with again?" The Latina asks, standing awkwardly just inside the door while Arizona fishes out one of the bottles of water tucked away in a tiny fridge.

"Teddy is with me. And then Yang and Grey." Robbins replies, handing a cool water over to her guest.

"Lucky you." The catcher drawl sarcastically, making both laugh lightly. "I'm with Addison, and then Naomi and Hahn share the other room." She adds, silently cursing the softball Gods, and her coaches, for putting the other catcher in her room. The silver lining being only that Erica isn't actually sharing the same room with Callie. She is sure one of them would end up bleeding, and Torres doesn't go down easily.

They both take a couple sips of water, neither really wanting to make a move. But finally the awkwardness becomes too much and Callie says "I had a great time today."

"Yeah, me too." Arizona whispers, adding offhandedly "…surprisingly."

"Hey!" The captain whines, making the woman in front of her giggle.

"I didn't mean it like that, Calliope. I just… I don't know. I guess I thought my first date after… everything… would be a little hard. But it wasn't. It was..." Her words fade out as she tries to search for just the right word.

"Awesome?" Callie offers with a smile, taking a small step towards the pitcher.

"Super awesome." Arizona replies in a whisper. The Latina continues to stalk up on the blonde, pushing her further and further back until Arizona bumps into the apartment door and leaving her nowhere else to run.

"I'm going to kiss you now." Callie purrs, then leans in and presses her lips against her pitchers. Whereas all their previous embraces had been hurried, rushed, passionate and crazed, this one is slow and tender. There is no reason to hurry, no one who could pop up around a corner or discover them secretly making out in the hallway, so they take their time.

Arizona blindly sets their waters on the door-side table, then wraps her arms around the taller woman's neck, pulling Callie deeper into their kiss. Tanned hands snake from the blonde's waist, cup the small of her back and push upwards before trailing back down. Someone requests access to the other's mouth, and tongues soon join the party, each taking turns tasting the other. The only thing heard in the apartment are quiet smack of lips against lips, the faint moan falling from aroused bodies, and the steady booming of a stereo system from somewhere down the hall.

They pull apart, neither knowing how long their 'simple' good night kiss having lasted but both knowing it wasn't long enough. Sky blue eyes have darken to a navy, and Arizona is sure the usually chocolate eyes of the woman pinning her against the door are now black as night. Bodies hum with pleasure and anticipation, and the scream of an awaiting bed is nearly deafening.

But when the apartment door suddenly opens, the door handle jams into Arizona's back making her cry out. She and Callie jump, the Latina crossing the room in a second in order to put some space between her and the heated blonde. They quickly wipe at their lips in hopes of covering any evidence of the make out session they had going just as a very wet, and very pissed off looking Korean comes storming into the apartment, quickly followed by an equally soaked Meredith Grey. Neither of the newcomers notice the blush racing across Arizona's or Callie's cheeks, both preoccupied by their equal hatred of uneven London weather.

Not knowing what else to say, Callie asks "Is it raining outside?"

"No." Yang snaps, so not in the mood for small talk… or even people in general at this point. "It's National Baptism day here in London."

A perfectly shaped brow arches in surprise, and Torres questions "Who lit the fuse on your tampon?" Arizona's hand shoots up to cover her mouth but it's not quick enough to keep her giggle contained, making the Latina smile the blonde.

"Don't want a sarcastic answer, don't ask a stupid question." Cristina says pointedly then turns to her two roommates. "I'm taking a shower and using up all the hot water. Suck it." With that Yang, turns on her heel and disappears into the tiny bathroom shared by the four roommates. Meredith just shrugs her shoulders then disappears into their room, shutting the door behind her.

"Guess that means our date is over." Arizona sighs, watching Callie shuffle closer and closer to her as she holds the apartment door open.

"Or… we just change locations." The Latina suggests, exiting the apartment and leaning against the door jam, her arms crossed over her chest which provides the blonde with a very delicious view of Torres's cleavage. But just as Arizona is about to reply, the telltale laugh of Addison and Teddy is heard, both women glancing down the hallway to see their friends approaching. "Or not…" Callie groans.

"Torres." Teddy states smugly as she slips between the flirting couple, giving them both a knowing look before heading off into her's and Robbin's bedroom. Both know that their team has returned from the city and there is very little chance of doing anything else without getting caught, so they resign to the idea that tonight is at a close.

Just outside of the door, Callie whispers "So… I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Guess so." Arizona replies, a goofy giggle falling from her mouth. "I had a great time."

"You said that already." Torres teases, loving how she can get those dimples to show as the simplest of sentences. "Alright well… I should go before Addison…"

"Yeah, me too. Teddy…" The blonde adds, both knowing that their friends know something is going on between them, but neither Arizona nor Callie really knowing what exactly it is. Acting on a whim, Arizona chances it just for a second and places a quick kiss on waiting lips before pulling back to a safer distance. "Good night, Calliope." She breathes out.

"Good night, Arizona." Callie purrs, taking a very tipsy steps backwards, her eyes still locked on the smiling woman in front of her. Only when her captain turns her back to her does the blonde close the door, a sigh falling from her lips. She takes a second to remember this moment, to solidify it deep in her memory. So much up until this point has been hard, and painful, and sad. But then this beautiful light has appeared, a light that shines as bright as the sun, and has an arm that can fire a softball faster than the speed of sound. Up until now, it felt like Arizona Robbins was floating in a large ocean, completely without direction or a map, just going where ever the crazy currents took her. But… maybe it's not until we are lost do we begin to find ourselves again. …Maybe.

* * *

AN2: So, first date seemed to be a hit, yes? Arizona seems to be in a better place, and Callie is just as solid as ever. What happens once competition starts and puts heat on everyone? Will they strengthen, or shatter? Let me know, and thanks for all your awesome support! You guys are great.

AN3: Also, I know that some of you are really a fan of softball. I've tried to keep a lot of the story off the field right now, just putting in bits and pieces here and there, but these next few chapters might be alittle action heavy. Hey… it's an softball fic, so it has to happen. But I will try to make it smooth and easy to understand. Again, thanks for sticking with me and giving this story a chance! Hope to keep you all on the edge of your seat. Until next time…


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: Another update. Yay! So… don't really have anything to say. Just… Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 23

Before they know it, Opening Ceremonies have taken place and now Team USA is suited up for their first softball game of the 2012 Olympics. Nerves have reappeared and now Arizona stares at herself in the mirror of their tiny Olympic Village apartment. She tries not to think about it, about the idea that the team is setting their hopes on her pitching ability. The fact that she hasn't pitched in a competition like this since high school isn't common knowledge, and only now does the blonde realize how much of rookie she really is. Raw talent, speed, velocity, precision. She has those things, but experience? Not so much. A crippling shoulder injury took her out of the game during her first semester in college, and since then it's been all about medicine. Until… it wasn't about medicine anymore.

The pitcher is on her fifth round of 'You can do this, Robbins. No bailing. You can do this.' when a very disgruntled Korean starts pounding on the bathroom door. "There are other people who need the bathroom, Dimples!" Arizona jumps in surprise and quickly finishes up before opening the door and slipping past her roommate. Yang gives the blonde a hard look, mumbling something under her breath before slamming the door behind her. The blonde is not exactly sure how Cristina Yang is able to turn a nickname like 'Dimples' into something that sounds insulting, but she does.

Back in her bedroom, Arizona sits awkwardly on her bed, arms folded in her lap, and waits. There is still about a half hour until the team has to head over to the softball complex, so there is nothing to do to work out the butterflies flapping around in her stomach. A few minutes pass, a knee bouncing in place as the blonde takes practiced breaths, and then she spies a wrinkle in her sheets. Being a daughter of a Marine Colonel, that just won't do. Without a second thought, Robbins stands and strips her bed, remaking it all over from the ground up.

Teddy steps back into their room to find the blonde meticulously measuring the fold, her hands moving with military precision she recognizes from a mile away. "You're not nervous, are you?" The first baseman asks, plopping down in her own made bed.

"Shut it." Arizona growls, taking a step back and surveying her work. Every centimeter is smooth, sheets taunt enough for a quarter to bounce. And yet there is still too much time left to wait so the blonde steps in front of their small mirror and starts to braid her hair.

Minutes later there is a knock on their front door, Grey opening it to find a smiling Latina. Callie merely gets a smirk from her teammate before Meredith retreats back to her and Yang's room, letting the catcher head to opposite room. Without making a sound, she leans against the door jam, her eyes locked onto the vision of Arizona Robbins weaving her golden locks into an intricate design.

Teddy watches her captain pine over her roommate and smiles, then clears her throat. A blush races across tanned cheeks as Callie realizes for the first time Arizona isn't the only one in the room. Blue eyes whip around and find Torres, dimples popping instantly before forcing a more neutral look on her face for the sake of Teddy.

"Right… You guys are _sooo _subtle." Altman teases with an eye roll. Pushing off her bed and grabbing their uniform visor, the first baseman heads for the living room. "I'll be out here doing… something." She murmurs, slipping past Callie while giving her a knowing smirk.

Torres discreetly shuts the door, locking both her and Arizona in a room by themselves. "Hey." Callie breathes.

"Hi." Arizona replies, dimples shining bright. She turns back to the mirror to quickly finishes up her braiding while Callie stalks up behind the blonde, watching nimble fingers work before letting her eyes trail down the backside of the pitcher. There is something… magical… about softball pants. The way they bring to life every delicious curve of a woman's body while also emphasizing the fact that the person wearing them is all business. The bright red jersey tucked perfectly into white pants makes the Latina drool, and her hands ache to touch the creature in front of her.

Just as Robbins is securing her creation with a barrette, a thin braid running across her forehead before tapering off by her ear, Callie's hands find home on the blonde's waist. Blue lock with chocolate in the mirror in front of them and bodies hum with excitement. Since their date they haven't had much time alone. There was always someone there, a teammate or a coach, someone from the press, which only added to anxiety Arizona has about their hidden romantic relationship. Yet she just can't stay away from the woman, it's like there is this magnetic pull towards Callie Torres that Arizona is unable to resist.

Dark eyes send a wink to the mirror before Callie dips her head and nuzzles the blonde's neck, inhaling that vanilla-coconuty smell that she has become addicted to. Plump lips graze at fair skin, playing over muscle, tendons and bones beneath before laying a soft kiss at that magic spot just behind Robbins ear.

"You ready?" Callie purrs, trailing kisses down the curve of Arizona's ear before nipping at the fleshy lobe below.

The pitcher turns in their embrace, looking up into warm eyes and her hands moving up to the tanned, naked flesh of Callie's neck, raven hair pulled up into an all-business ponytail. Pushing up on her toes, lips connect with lips, the two sharing a kiss both have been craving since their last kiss while parting after their date.

"Now I am." Arizona answers when they part. The catcher just smiles and takes advantage of their privacy by leaning back for another kiss. Callie starts to slowly back up, pulling the woman in her arms with her as their kiss deepens. Knees buckle as Torres finds the edge of Arizona's bed, both women falling back onto the mattress with a giggle.

Pushing up out of their embrace and supporting herself over the Latina, Arizona growls "Do you know how long it took me to make this bed?" Callie just smiles and rolls her eyes before pulling the blonde back down on top of her. Tanned hands want to rip the USA jersey right off of the pitcher's body but instead she settles on groping the woman's chest over their shirt. A moan falls from pink lips at the contact, a firm squeeze from her captain running straight to the blonde's center, lighting her on fire.

"We should stop…" Arizona mumbles as their tongues, teeth and lips clash against one another's.

"You're right." Torres agrees, one hand firmly squeezing the blonde's tight ass while the other snakes around and cups a restrained breast.

"I'm serious." The pitcher gasps, but makes no move to disentangle themselves. She's drunk on the feeling the woman below her is giving her. Plump lips being the best thing she's ever tasted, even that amazing pastry they shared on their date doesn't compare to how the Latina tastes against her lips. …On her tongue.

"Me too." The catcher states, then a jolt of pleasure rips through her when a toned thigh pushes against her center.

"You're not stopping." Arizona hisses, the Latina biting the blondes bottom lip.

"Neither are you." Callie rebuttals when she surrenders the pitcher lips. Robbins pulls away just enough to stare down at the woman below her, chocolate brown eyes now tainted black with hunger and Callie is positive that the blue eyes above her are darker than the night skies.

"We really do need to get going." The blonde whispers, hating the words as she is saying them and silently praying that a freak lightening storm will rear its ugly head right now so their impending game will be delayed.

But the bright sun light streams in through the bedroom window, making caramel skin glow. "I know…" Callie groans, then arches up and takes bruised lips with hers again. Soft, sweet, and slow, parting too soon but with a promise of more to come later. When eyes open again, the Latina smiles and whispers "Let's go kick some Polish ass."

* * *

Callie Torres, Teddy Altman and Coach Richard Webber come striding back from home plate and rejoin their team after wishing the Polish players good luck pre-game. A quick vote prior the routine get together between the two teams and the head umpire had placed the first baseman as their new co-captain. Erica Hahn's anger, something that was at a steady simmer for days, now starts to bubble again. Arizona can sense the tension, everyone can, but no one says anything because now is not the time for that kind of drama. Team USA is about to take the field for the first game of the race for Gold in Women's softball. There is no time for selfishness like that.

"Alright ladies." Webber booms, a big smile on his face as he looks over his anxious players, every woman wearing identical uniforms and looking a million bucks. "It's time. This is what we've worked for. It's right now. It's time to show America who the Golden Girls really are. Show them you ladies are the best of the best, the cream of the crop. Show the world that you _deserve _to have those letters on your chest. 'USA' isn't given to just anyone, you have to work for it. You have to live it. …Now is your time, ladies. Show them what you got." Goosebumps prickle up over his players and coaches skin as smiles turn up lips. "Ready?" He asks, getting a chorus of 'Yeah's!' from his team. "Alright then… Torres, send it off."

The Latina holds a hand out in front of her which is quickly covered by thirteen other hands of her teammates. "Ok ladies, let's take care of business. On me. USA!"

"All the way!" The team yells.

"Batter!" The umpire calls, pulling USA to the Polish team out on the field. They had pulled the visitor card, so USA is up to bat first.

"Start us off, Robbins." Derek Shepard exclaims as the blonde grabs her helmet and bat, those butterflies in her stomach now coming on tenfold. Arizona smacks the top of her helmet to get it down tight, and straps and unstraps her batting glove three times. One practice swing. Two practice swings. Three practice swings. Going through her routine. Every player has one, whether it's licking their fingertips, touching the brim of their hat, or drinking molten hot chocolate even in the height of summer, every player has their own superstitions. And now is definitely not the time to piss off the softball gods.

With a peek over her shoulder, Robbins catches Shepard's sign to take a pitch, his strategy to try and get a feel for the umpire's strike zone. With that added signal to flip sides, Arizona steps over to the right batter's box and, with a deep, calming breath, gets set.

Callie watches the blonde from the dugout and finds herself more nervous than she's ever been. "Come on, Battleship. Come on. One time." She mutters to herself. The Polish pitcher winds up and let's one fly, sailing at break neck speed and smacking loudly in her catcher's mitt.

"Strike!" The umpire calls, eliciting a roar from the Polish team and their fans. Arizona steps out of the box and looks to her coach, Shepard nodding and giving the 'slap' signal. The blonde touches the brim of her helmet, letting Derek know she saw the sign, and then quickly scans the infield for the optimal placement. There is a nice, juicy hole between third and shortstop, and Robbins knows she's found her target.

Back in the batter's box, Arizona sets up and awaits the next pitch. The ball comes flying towards her but at the last second it peels off the down and out corner, the umpire signaling a ball. The roar of the crowd and from her team is almost deafening, and the stadium isn't even half full. Blue eyes quickly scan the crowd as she steps out and takes a practice swing, inevitably finding those deep brown ones coming from Team USA's dugout. Callie is standing right at the edge, strong hands wrapped in her batting gloves and the Latina's signature bat propped on her shoulder. Torres sends her pitcher a wink, one that makes a dimpled smile appear from under the layers and layers of nerves Arizona is feeling.

Stepping back up, Arizona feels her body calm, that sense of peace that descends upon her just like when she grasps the cool steel of a scalpel. Her mind clears and senses kick into gear. The Polish pitcher accepts the sign and winds up, pushing off the rubber and sending the ball flying towards home. Robbins brings her bat around, her legs moving with precision as she runs the length of the batter's box, metal connecting with leather a split second before the blonde is racing down the first base line.

The ball bounces right into that fat empty spot she planned, and the Polish infield rushes to make a play. Team USA is yelling from the dugout but Arizona doesn't hear them, she doesn't feel her legs moving or her arms pumping. All she knows is she needs to reach the bag before the ball does.

"Go baby, go!" Callie yells as soon as she watches Arizona take off. "Go!" Only a couple seconds after she made contact, Robbins flies past the bag, her foot touching a full two strides ahead of the tag.

"Safe!" The first base ump calls, and the entire US bench erupts, along with all their fans. The rush of making her team's first play makes the blonde feel invincible, and she doesn't doubt that the smile on her face is the largest one she's had in months and months.

"Give me some of that, Blondie!" Sloan exclaims, Arizona giving her first base coach a strong high five. "Nice work. That's how you get it going, girl." There are no words, so all Arizona does is smile and raise a clenched fist to her teammates at the bench, signaling the rise of USA.

* * *

Addison steps up to the plate after Arizona led off, sending a hard liner right at the third baseman but the Polish player isn't able to handle the heat to get off a play at second. Instead, she fires it to first just in time to get the redhead out. But USA is ok with that, because it advanced their runner. Erica steps up next, steeling her eyes to the gaping hole just to the right of the center fielder. The power hitter rarely gets a signal other than swing away, and this time is no different. Derek tells the blonde to take her pick, and Hahn steps up. She plays with the pitcher, the USA catcher an expert with getting into the heads of her competition.

Arizona gets up on her toes, her muscles coiled like a spring as she waits to unleash her speed. As soon as the ball leaves the pitcher's hand, the blonde takes a three stride lead off, a crack of the bat making her stop and watch. The neon ball sails high into the air, flying between center and right field.

"HOLD!" Derek yells needlessly at his base runner as Arizona watches the ball float. The Polish outfielders run for the ball, the blonde on second returning to the bag as she watches the play unfold. Callie holds her breath in the on-deck circle, knowing that Hahn just flied out but wondering if Arizona is going to test their opponents' arms.

As soon the right fielder catches the ball, signaling the second out for Team USA, Arizona jumps off the bag and races to third. The Polish player fires the ball to third, bypassing her cut-off man. The third baseman steels herself for a play for the bag, quickly judging the speed of the ball with the speed of the runner barreling towards her. Arizona doesn't see the ball, all she sees is the bag. Derek signals her down, knowing it's going to be a photo finish, and the blonde falls into a picture perfect slide. The third baseman lays down a strong tag, one that catches Arizona in the stomach but it's too late.

"Safe!" The third base ump calls, and the US bench explodes again. Time is called for Arizona to get up, and the blonde is all smiles. Her teammates are cheering and the crowd is yelling, the Polish team saying who knows what in their native tongue as they try to settle down.

Derek steps out of the coach's box and gives his player a high five. "Nice wheels, Robbins." He says with a smile, then looks down at the brownish red stain of the blonde's white uniform pants and adds "Those didn't last long, did they?"

Adrenaline is flowing through her system and she feels like nothing can catch her. Looking to her coach, Arizona asks "If it gets past, can I go?"

Shepard's brow arches in amusement and the man crosses his arms over his chest. "Think you can make it?"

"Hell yeah." The blonde breathes out, dimpled smile shining bright. The umpire calls the game back and Callie steps up into the batter's box. Blue eyes take the few seconds she has to scan up and down the backside of her captain, those white softball pants doing glorious things that shouldn't be legal. But then the home plate ump signals for the pitcher to commence play and Arizona is back into business mode.

Callie's vision tunnels to where it's only her and the pitcher, the ball and her bat. One pitch, she takes it. Second pitch, ball. Third pitch, outside but the umpire calls it. The Latina tucks that little tidbit away to use later, and gets set for her fourth pitch. A drop that the captain chases, getting a piece of it and fouling it off. Arizona was off the bag the second she heard that telltale ping, but sees the ball go flying up and back into the safety net. The blonde is just itching to go, to get her team moving, and stealing their first run would be just the thing to set the tone for their Games.

The Polish pitcher looks flustered and takes a second to compose herself, turning away from the intimidating batter she is now facing and looks toward the runner at third. The blonde just smiles, Arizona silently daring her to give her an opening. Just one second, one mistake, and that's all Robbins needs to make her move.

The pitcher steps back up to the rubber and Callie takes one last practice swing, then steps back in. She winds up, and the pitcher sends a curve ball to her catcher. But the release is off and the pitch tips too soon, nearly skimming the Latina at her knees. The Polish catcher isn't able to contain the wild pitch in time and it goes bouncing to the back stop. That is Arizona's chance, and the blonde unleashes all her speed. Callie steps out of the way, watching the frantic catcher and pitcher try to get set for the steal but Arizona is right on them.

"Down!" Torres yells to Arizona, knowing it's going to be a close call. Robbins doesn't second guess her captain and falls into another slide, the tag nowhere close.

"Safe!" The home plate umpire calls, and the USA bench explodes, the stadium going crazy as the first run of the Olympics is scored.

Callie pulls the blonde up by a hand, both sharing a smile and a look. "Way to move, Battleship."

"Thanks Boss." Arizona replies with a wink, and as she walks past her catcher Torres makes use of the long time tradition of ass smacking to plant a firm love tap on the blonde's butt. With a triumphant smile, Callie steps back into the batter's box and stares down the now flustered Polish team knowing that this game is already theirs.

* * *

"Batter up!" The home plate umpire calls, signaling that the next pitch is Arizona's last warm up one. Planting her foot, she sends a rocket right into the sweet spot of Torres's glove, the delicious sting radiating through the Latina's hand telling her it was a good one. In an instant, Callie is out of her squat and firing the ball to Erica at third who then sends it around the horn.

Once Teddy lays down the mock tag at first, the entire infield convenes at the pitcher's circle, Altman placing the ball in the blonde's mitt. "Let's do this." Teddy says, eager to get the game underway.

"How about another corny joke?" Callie suggests, seeing the slight terror and nerves floating in her pitchers blue eyes. The captain gets a round of skeptical looks, but Torres says "What? Come on! Just something to loosen us up. …Come on, Robbins, I bet you have another one don't you?"

Arizona smiles and shakes her head, knowing exactly what her catcher is doing. "Fine. Um… What do you call a nun in a wheelchair?" A beat passes, five sets of eyes looking on and waiting for the punch line. "…A Virgin Mobile." Sighs of exasperation float around their small huddle, and Erica Hahn rolls her eyes. With a warning from an umpire, they quickly share a round of high fives and everyone heads back to their position.

Before crossing the chalk line, Callie makes eye contact with Robbins and says "You got this, Arizona. No sweat." The blonde forces a chuckle out and watches as her catcher jogs back behind the plate. Suddenly everything comes crashing down on her shoulders, her mind suddenly absorbing everything around her. The air is vibrating from the fans, the air heavy with expectations and the distance between rubber and plate seems about five times further than normal.

Callie gets set in her squat and finds Mark Sloan just at the corner of USA's dugout. Normally she wouldn't look to him for signs, instead relying on her own instincts, but with the weight of an entire nation on her back, having someone there to back up her decisions helps. Mark throws the sign for an inside heater, wanting to face the first batter head on with fire, which is what the Latina would have done as well. She relays the sign to the blonde at the mound, but receives no nod. Callie shows the sign again, but still Arizona doesn't acknowledge it. The captain reads her pitcher, the tension in Robbins' shoulders, the death grip she has on the ball at her side, the way pink lips are pressed into a firm line. The Latina has seen pitchers crack under the pressure before, and right now her pitcher is showing the signs.

Then out of nowhere, Arizona shakes her head, pulling her back into reality. Callie watches as the blonde's chest rises and falls with a deep breath, and she shows the sign again. This time the pitcher accepts and gets set on the mound.

With another calming breath, the blonde winds up and sends a scorcher blazing right past the wide eyed batter, leather smacking leather resulting in a loud "STRIKE" to echo throughout the stadium. The first strike is just want Arizona needed to get her head in the game. Now, she's set. She and Callie, and their team, are on their way.

* * *

"She's out!" The outfield up yells, calling the third out after Erica fields a dribbler and tags her base for an easy out. With that, Team USA jogs off the field as they conclude the fourth inning. The red, white and blue are up 5 to 0, and everyone is feeling good. Arizona has been nearly untouchable all day, with only three hits and giving up no runs. The Haus behind the plate has been as intimidating as ever, giving every batter a run for their money and even showing a cocky little base runner a thing or two when she attempted to steal second out from under the Latina's nose. As soon as her dark eyes saw the Polish runner make a move, Torres was out of her squat and firing the ball right at second. Naomi barely had time to get to the bag in time, but she did and the shortstop laid down the perfect tag. The runner never had a chance.

As far as Callie and Arizona go, they are like one in the same. Whatever was lost during their little scuffle, the fight and the drug thing, they made up for in spades. The chemistry between them is electric and everyone on the field, and off, can feel it. The smile on Mark Sloan's face is something akin to a kid in a candy shop, and he can already see that Gold around their necks.

"Hey Blondie!" Sloan calls as the team comes jogging back to their bench, Teddy being up to bat first. Arizona hangs back a second, letting the rest of the woman past before approaching her coach. The man stares down at the blonde, an unreadable look on his face. Robbins squirms a little bit under the stare, but she knows that she's been on fire and knows there is no reason she will be chewed out. Still… authority issues and all…

Finally, his hard stare breaks and a smile crosses his chapped lips. "Looking good, Robbins. Must be all that great coaching." He states.

"Um… thanks?" Arizona chances, making Mark bark out a shout of laughter before clapping her roughly on the shoulder.

She joins the rest of her team in the dugout and starts looking for her jacket so she can keep her arm warm. But she can't find it. Callie watches as her pitcher starts to tear apart the dugout and approaches her. "What you looking for, Battleship?" The Latina asks.

"My jacket. It was right here but…" Arizona whispers a silent curse, and swears she can feel the muscles of her arm stiffen each second it's not being kept warm.

Callie grabs hers from her bag and offers it to the blonde. "Here, use mine." She says, a big smile on her face.

"You sure?" Arizona asks, but doesn't really wait for an answer. Her need to keep her arm warm outweighs the need to be polite in this moment. Dark eyes shine as she watches Arizona wear her clothes, a sense of familiarity filling her chest. Sure, all their jackets are identical, but the idea of Arizona wearing _her _jacket makes it… amazing.

"You alright, Boss?" The pitcher asks, pulling Callie out of her daydreaming. "You're staring. Something wrong?" Arizona whispers, very conscious of their teammates well within earshot, as well as the thousands of spectators lining the stadium benches with their cameras poised, all ready to snap a picture of something juicy.

"No, nothing. Just… You're awesome." The Latina says, loving how she can get a bright blush to rip across the blonde's face with the drop of a simple sentence.

Blue and brown are locked, each sharing a goofy smile with the other until Webber yells "Robbins!" Arizona jumps, breaking their stare and turning to face her coach. "Come on, you're up!"

"Batter!" The home umpire calls.

"Shit." Arizona growls, tearing off Callie's jacket and giving it to her catcher as she quickly grabs her batting gloves and helmet, stumbling out of the dugout and running to home plate. Torres just chuckles at how unbelieveably adorable the blonde is. How can someone be a hardcore pitcher, facing down batters with death glares one minute, and then be so clumsy and cute the next? It's not right, but it's oh so perfect.

* * *

The roar and riot of the first game coming to a close is still in the air, the high of Team USA is rippling across the stadium and everyone is smiling. Coming in and shutting down the Polish team was something the coaches hoped for. Sure, they're not the most talented team in the pool, but they are a formidable opponent and now all four coaches hope that this big win will be just what their team needs to hit their strides. Sloan ended up pulling Robbins in the fifth inning just so the blonde will have some juice left in case Arizona is needed as a relief in their second game, and Charlotte King went in. There were a few close calls, but with Callie Torres behind the plate, no runner had a shot at taking home.

Now the ladies are all packed up and relaxing for a few hours before their next game. Some have gone to get some treatments, others going to get some food, and some just stay at the stadium to take in the next game. A wrapped up Callie Torres comes limping out of the training room, knees iced and wrapped, and her first thought is to find a certain blonde haired pitcher to spend the time with.

She finds her, along with Teddy and Addison, on the top bleacher of the far most section of seating. All three are wrapped up in their identical USA jackets, chatting and laughing about something someone said. The sound of Arizona's giggle makes Callie smile and her heart flutter. Right now, more than anything, she wishes they could find a private room and continue what they started this morning. Maybe their little make out session was a good omen, maybe that's what they needed to get in sync again. At least, Callie hopes that's what it was, because that would mean they'd have to do that every morning. …Before every game. And Callie Torres is perfectly alright with that.

"Ladies…" The Latina drawls, announcing her appearance. "What you all up to?" She asks, then goes through the trouble of stepping around the three of them to take the empty seat next to Arizona instead of the empty spot closest to the stairs.

"Oh, nothing." Arizona replies, giving her catcher a dimpled smile. "Just sitting here on the corner of awesome and bombdiggity."

Chuckling, Torres says "You're flying pretty high, aren't you Battleship?"

"What can I say? …I rocked." The blonde states matter of factly, in a tone that no one can argue with. Addison and Teddy just roll their eyes at each other, both knowing now that Callie is here there is no hope of getting either of their attention. Whenever Callie and Arizona are around each other its like nothing else in the world exists around them.

"Food?" Addison asks the first baseman right beside her.

"Definitely." Teddy replies, and the two of them stand and head to the cafeteria, not saying a word to the flirting teenagers left behind. It doesn't take long for Arizona and Callie to realize that their friends left, and they decide to follow… at their own pace, of course. The two meander their way back to Olympic Village and soon find the rest of their team. Almost everyone has settled down at a string of tables, trays of partially eaten food in front of them.

Erica Hahn looks up just in time to see Callie and Arizona enter the area together, both smiling at each other and the Latina letting out a big belly laugh at something Robbins said. The hairs on the back of Hahn's next stand on end, and her fists make their way into a ball. She is now over the idea of her and Torres, but seeing Callie with someone else doesn't help matters. Even though the Latina has told her time and time again that there is nothing going on with Robbins, Erica isn't blind. Anyone can see the way they act around one another, how those beautiful brown eyes light up as soon as Arizona walks by, or even if someone just mentions the NewGirl's name.

When Callie takes a seat, and Arizona heads over to the food line, Erica sees her chance. Feigning that she needs a refill on her drink, Hahn follows Robbins away from their team and towards a more secluded spot. Just as Arizona is grabbing a tray, Erica grabs her by the sleeve of her jacket and pulls her around a corner, out of the line of sight of everyone else.

"What the hell?" Arizona spits, yanking her sleeve from the taller woman's grasp. "Who ate your bowl of sunshine this morning, Thundercloud?"

"Let's just get this out of the way, ok? I know." Erica states coolly.

"Know what?" Robbins asks, completely lost as to what her teammate is going on about. Though… there's really only one topic that Erica ever talks to her about, and that's Callie.

"That you and Callie are bumping uglies." The ex-captain sneers.

Blue eyes roll in their socket and Arizona takes on a defensive stance, crossing her arms and jutting out a hip. "You're wrong. We're not." And it's true, up to this point. They haven't gone past first base. Well… this morning they were kind of rounding second but still… no homeruns have happened yet.

"Right, because the last time Callie gushed about a stupid date that didn't end in getting laid was… oh, never." Hahn snaps.

This catches Arizona's attention, and though she tries to fight it, a dimpled smile pulls up at her lips. "She gushed?" The blonde asks, going into teenager mode.

"Listen here, NewGirl." Hahn growls, her voice dropping about ten octaves which sends a shiver down the pitchers spine. "There is a reason we have the rule, and I suggest you and Callie end whatever this is before it turns ugly, do you hear me?"

"Uhhh..." Arizona's brow furrows in confusion, her eyes staring off into space as she thinks. "Ok, so… this rule, the one about not inter-team dating, right?" Erica nods stiffly. "Right, this is the same rule _you _were all for breaking when you made a move on Calliope, is that right? I believe there is something about rocks and glass houses… How does that go?" Now it's Erica's turn to be on the defensive, Hahn not expecting the smaller woman to actually fight her about this. Because… no one fights Hahn about anything, no one. They are all too afraid.

"That's completely-" Erica starts but Arizona cuts her off.

"No, it's completely the same." Robbins says, meeting steel blue eyes with her own hardened glare. "How about you just… leave me alone? How about that? I'm doing my job, I'm pitching. Pretty well, if you were paying attention to the game. So… just leave me alone. I'll do my job, which is being all awesome and amazing. And I'll let you do yours, which is being all evil and grumpy. Sound good?" Arizona makes a move to leave but Erica steps in front of her, cutting off the pitcher exit route.

"This team was _fine _before you showed up here, Robbins." Hahn snarls. "I suggest you keep your nose clean and do what is expected of you."

"Which is what? Doing drugs and covering it up? Being an absolute bitch to everyone else? Or just taking advantage of my teammates just to bolster my own massive ego? …No, wait, that's what's expected of _you_." Arizona snaps back, then shoulder checks the larger blonde and storms off.

Callie watches as her pitcher comes tearing ass around the corner, blue eyes dark with fury, barreling past the rest of the team and heading off in the direction of the fields. Both Teddy and Addison, as well as a handful of other players all witness it, and then slowly turn to look at Callie, silently seeking an explanation. All Torres can do is shrug, not knowing what the hell just happened in the last five minutes to piss Arizona off. But then those dark eyes find a second blonde turning the same corner, and fire erupts within the Latina's body as Erica retakes her seat at the table. And suddenly a bad feeling fills Callie Torres's body, because Erica Hahn never brings anything but pain and drama.

* * *

"Alright ladies! One out, plays at three!" Arizona shouts, alerting the rest of the field of their predicament. Two innings into the second game of USA's double header and they are in a predicament. Lucy Fields is currently on the mound and playing a solid game, but Brazil seems to be out for blood. Hahn is behind the plate and seems to be running the field a little off, so Arizona steps up. Callie at third is having a difficult time separating the little incident from lunch with their unity on the field, but the blonde playing shortstop next to her helps.

The next batter steps up, and Arizona sets up on the balls of her feet. Lucy winds up and sends a heater past the woman, getting the first strike. Another pitch, another strike. Mark stands at the edge of the dugout, chewing on a finger nail as he watches his newest addition try to dig herself out of a hole. Another pitch, it's in the dirt but Erica covers it, preventing the runner on two from stealing third and moving into scoring position.

"Heads up, Battleship." Callie says, catching Arizona's attention. "She chops to the left, so it's coming our way."

"I'm on it, Boss." Arizona replies, all eyes turning to the batter again. Another pitch, and she makes contact. But it's a high foul ball that sails left. Both Callie and Arizona take off after it, crossing the chalk lines and barreling towards the crowd.

"Fence! Fence!" Robbins yells, alerting the Latina that she is about to run into the fence. But instead of backing off, Callie keeps chasing it. And in a move that looks far more practiced than it actually is, Torres somersaults over the fence, glove hand reaching out for the ball just in time before tumbling into the bleachers.

Arizona arrives at the fence a split second later, eyes wide. "Callie?" She tries, spying the mass of unmoving Latina. "Callie?" When she doesn't get an answer, the smaller woman nimbly hops over the fence and comes to her teammate's assistance.

"Ow." Torres growls, pushing off the hard cement and raising a gloved hand up for the umpire to see.

"Out!" The field ump calls, and USA explodes.

A big dimpled smile crosses the blonde's face and she reaches out to help Callie back over the fence. "You're crazy, you know that?" She plays, supporting her catcher as she steadies herself on her feet.

"I'm hardcore. …There's a difference." The Latina groans, tossing the ball back to Lucy on the mound. "Did you see me? You like that?" She asks, thinking that as long as she nearly broke her neck, it might give her some badass points from Arizona.

"All of America saw." Arizona teases, but sends her catcher a wink before turning her attention back to the next batter.

* * *

"USA!"

"ALL THE WAY!" The team yells over the roar of the crowd. USA has just won their second straight game, second shut out to be exact. The team is on fire, and everyone is feeling the excitement. Even though there were multiple scoring opportunities for the Brazilians, they could never get a run going. Lucy Fields calmed down and took care of business on the mound, and her team backed her up the entire time. Callie and Arizona handled the left side of the field masterfully while Teddy and Addison handled the right. Miranda Bailey kept Meredith and Cristina in line the entire game in the outfield, while Erica was able to keep Fields head in the game. All in all, it was another great game for Team USA.

"Alright ladies, settle down! Settle down." Webber tries to corral his girls but everyone is amped. "Settle down now, I have something to say." Finally everyone stops talking all eyes turn to the big man in charge. "You ladies played well today. Like a team. That's what I want to see. Now… I'm not saying that we forget about these victories, but remember we still have a long road. Each win counts, so let's keep a level head. Celebrate your wins, but come in to tomorrow with a fresh slate."

"What a downer." Charlotte growls, getting her teammates to chuckle in response. Webber just rolls his eyes and smiles as his team starts to chat amongst themselves again.

But when he gets the signal to move along, the next teams playing start taking the field, he adds "Report to the Testing Facility, give your samples, then you all are free to do as you like. I'm enforcing a curfew of 11 pm tonight, and I will be by personally to make sure everyone is where they are supposed to be. We play Russia and Great Britain tomorrow, both solid opponents, so make sure you get some sleep." His team nods in understanding, and a smile crosses his face. "But today, ladies… today you were Team USA. And your country is proud of you. Now scram!"

No one waits to be told twice and everyone heads for the exit of the complex. The field crew have already come by and hauled all their equipment to their storage lockers, so now all they have to do is go to the mandatory, post-competition drug testing. A small part of Erica Hahn is grateful that Amelia Shepard isn't here anymore, because getting caught _at _the Olympics is so much worse than being caught _before _the Olympics. Not that she would ever say anything to either Arizona or Callie, but still… the ex-captain sleeps a little easier now.

Hours later, after Callie has yet another meeting with the coaches, Teddy included now that she has been voted captain, both players shuffle back to their rooms. Torres really isn't sure where all the rest of her teammates are, and she doesn't really need to either. Webber is in charge of bed checks tonight so all the Latina needs to do is get her butt back in her apartment by 11 pm tonight.

The first room they get to is Teddy's, and as the first baseman opens the door both hear the telltale sign of a certain redhead laughing, quickly followed by the angelic giggle of Arizona. Callie invites herself in, and stands at the entrance of Altman and Robbins bedroom, watching Arizona try to steady her hands enough to continue painting Addison's toes. Both are laughing so hard tears are streaming from their cheeks, and it's a breathtaking sight for Callie.

When the need for oxygen overtakes them, Arizona comes up for a breath and sees that she and Addison have an audience. "Hey homies!" She exclaims, making dark eyes roll in amusement while Teddy plops down next to the blonde and looks over the pitchers shoulder to view her handiwork. "Look, American Flags!" Arizona adds, awkwardly trying to turn Montgomery's foot for the Latina to see.

"Maybe you could do mine next." Callie offers, getting a dimpled grin in reply. The catcher takes a seat on Teddy's bed, Arizona's bed now cramped with the three other women on it, and watch as the blonde's hands move expertly as she applies the paint. Torres imagines just how magnificent those hands must be with a scalpel, how precise and delicate her movements must be. It's a far cry from what she does with a softball, Arizona whipping it around her body and letting the ball fly at close to 70 miles per hour. Strangely, one turns Callie on just as much as the other.

"There, done. Now don't smudge them." Arizona announces, pulling Callie from her daydreaming. Blue eyes turn to the Latina and she asks "Whose next?"

"Vomit." Teddy groans, making Addison laugh out loud.

Both Arizona and Callie give her a hard look, but Torres suggests "Why don't we move to my room? I have something I want to show you."

"Oh, ok." Arizona replies, not knowing what Callie wants to show her but if it means getting some privacy then she is all for it.

As the duo head out of the apartment, Addison yells after them "Be done by 11! And don't use my bed!" A blush flies across tanned and fair cheeks alike, but neither comment on what the redhead was suggesting. Mainly because both have thought about it more times than they'd care to admit.

Within minutes they enter Torres's apartment, only silence greeting them. Callie isn't sure where Erica or Naomi are, and she doesn't really care as long as they stay gone until 11 pm on the dot.

"So…"Arizona drawls as she enters, what she assumes, is Callie's and Addison's room. The catcher shuts the door behind them, and then approaches the blonde, a smile forming as she watches her pitcher swallow the lump in her throat when the Latina gets close.

Without any introduction, Callie tips her head forward and seals her lips on Arizona's, taking the kiss she's been craving since this morning. Robbins responds immediately, arms reaching up and wrapping around the taller woman's neck to hold her in place.

"Hmmm…" Torres hum in contentment, both parting amicably and resting their foreheads against one another's. "I missed that." She whispers, making dimples appear on her pitchers face. Pulling back slightly, brown eyes survey the face in front of her, looking for the slightest hint that something might be wrong. "How are you?" She asks.

"Alright." Arizona replies, then adds "My feet kinda hurt though…" Callie's brow furrows and her gaze dips down to the sandaled, and painted, feet below them. "You know…" Robbins says. "…from kicking so much ass today."

A deep laugh falls from painted lips and Callie can't imagine Arizona getting any cuter. "Wow… you're kinda full of yourself, aren't you?"

"What can I say? I'm awesome." Arizona replies with a shrug. The pitcher pushes up onto her toes and kisses the Latina one more time before pulling away. "Now… you had something to show me?"

"Umm… yeah…" Callie fumbles, quickly thinking of something she can show the blonde to cover up the fact she just invited Arizona to her room to get her alone. The catcher grabs her laptop and starts it up, then says "I thought we could look over the game footage of Russia and the Brits."

Arizona narrows her gaze at her teammate and chances "You just invited me here to make out with me, didn't you?"

"No!" Torres replies, feigning shock. "I'd never do that." She fights to keep a straight face, but those sharp blue eyes bore into her like a drill. Finally, she caves "Fine, you caught me."

"Mmm, I knew it!" Arizona states triumphantly, the plops down onto the bed that is obviously Callie's. "Come on, sit." The blonde says, patting the space next to her. Callie gladly follows, and then goes into for the kill but a fair hand is held up, preventing plump lips from finding their target. "You're punishment for lying is for me to paint your toenails." The surgeon says, oblivious to the pout on her catchers face.

"Seriously?" Callie whines. "You want to waste this very _rare_ private time by doing my nails? That's just so… wrong."

Arizona giggles at the way her captain has somehow transformed into a cranky 5 year old, but says "You could have just asked me. It's not like Addison and Teddy don't know about us."

"Us?" Callie perks up. "There's an 'us'?"

"Well… you and me usually equal an 'us'. Just like Addison and Teddy equal a 'them'." The blonde replies.

"Wait… Addison and Teddy?" Torres asks, now very interested in what Arizona is saying. Apparently the Latina has been oblivious to everything else happening on her team if she missed the fact that her very straight friend is now pearl diving with Theodora Altman.

"Ew! No!" Arizona squeals, shoving Callie playfully. "Get your mind out of the gutter. I was talking semantics and here you are thinking with your pants."

"Yeah well…" Callie mumbles, a slight blush filling her cheeks. She tries to cover it by stretching out a little on the bed, a hand reaching behind her and massaging at a sore spot just under her left shoulder blade.

"You ok?" Arizona asks when she sees the Latina make a pained face.

"Yeah…" Callie sighs, trying to stretch out the twinge again but not able to. "Just… I think I might have tweaked something going after that foul ball."

"Turn around." The blonde says. When dark eyes just stare back at her, she lets out a huff of impatience and turns the woman so her strong back is facing the pitcher. A warmth rushes over Callie as Arizona's hands make contact, the surgeon's ministrations being gentle and tender, while at the same time practiced and sure. "Right here?" Arizona asks, her own body heat rising at the thought of her hands roaming the Latina's body.

"A little… down, a bit." Callie whispers, then lets out a groan when the blonde hits it. "Yeah, right there."

"There _is _a small knot there." Robbins states, her heart beating a little faster than it should for her to just be sitting still like she is. "I can ummm… I can work it out for you. If you want, that is."

"S-sure." Torres mumbles, her hands suddenly very damp.

"Take off your shirt." Arizona says, standing to let Callie lay out fully in the prone position.

This catches the Latina's attention, and wide brown eyes turn to meet blue. "Excuse me?"

"It's much easier with skin on skin contact." The pitcher states, using every ounce of practiced will power to assume her most professional tone. Little does Callie know that Arizona would be just as capable of working the sore spot with her shirt on, but Robbins can't resist the chance to see even more luscious caramel flesh.

"Uh huh…" The captain plays. "You sure this isn't your chance to play doctor on me? Because, baby, you don't need to pretend. I'd be more than happy to be your patient."

A smirk plays at pink lips and Arizona knows she's been found out. "Fine, be sore tomorrow…" The blonde huffs, then turns on her heels and makes for the door. But a strong hand grasps her wrist, halting her in her tracks. In a split second Callie is on her feet, keeping her pitcher from retreating. Brown lock with blue and the Latina slowly grips the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head and revealing a lacy black and purple bra underneath.

"What next, doctor?" Callie whispers, not missing the way the blonde's eyes have gone wide and have drifted down from the catcher's face. Instead, they are locked on the delicious looking caramel chest, Arizona's fingers just tingling to touch them.

"Uhh… I uhhh…Wow. Those are… Praise baby Jesus…" Arizona mumbles, the sight of Callie's breasts leaving her with the vocabulary of a one year old. "You uhhh, I… I-I umm, yeah. Nice. Um…" Shaking her head and forcing herself to look away, she finally is able to say "Bed."

Torres makes sure to add a bit more sway to her hips as she returns to her twin bed, and then lays out on her stomach. Arizona sends up a silent prayer to whoever may be listening for extra restraint, then straddles the very nice butt of her captain. Both are very aware of how close they are, the heat between them nearing the degree needed to melt steel.

Arizona works at the tender spot, her fingers moving expertly over the catcher's skeletal and muscular system. Sounds that shouldn't be legal flow from Callie's lips, and even if she could stop them, Torres wouldn't. The way the blonde is touching her, the sensuality and the intimacy of the moment is just too perfect for words.

"How's it feeling?" Arizona asks after working in tense silence for five minutes.

"Mmmmm…." Callie hums, her body like jello right now. The blonde just smiles, and after a couple more minutes she stops, her hands starting to cramp up. Sitting back on her heels, she waits for Torres to stir but it doesn't happen. Thinking that the catcher might have fallen asleep, crawls over the woman's body and, holding herself up, peeks down and finds closed eyelids.

"Calliope…" Robbins whispers.

"Hmm?" The catcher breathes out, a satisfied smile on her lips and a look of absolute peace over her face. Not wanting to bother her, Arizona tips to the side and rests her back against the wall, her eyes remaining locked on the stunning woman next to her. Nimble fingers push back a stray lock of raven hair, and finally brown eyes open to meet blue.

Arizona can see a question stewing in those depths, and she asks "What?"

"What did she say to you? Erica, what did she say to you in the cafeteria today?" Callie asks, the question having been clawing at the back of her brain all day.

"It's not important." Arizona replies, the pad of her thumb ghosting over the curve of the Latina's cheek.

"No, seriously Arizona, what did she say?" Torres pushes, propping up on her elbow so the two are mirroring each other.

"Just…" Eyes roll in frustration, that anger returning just from thinking about Hahn. "…She told me, well, _us _to stop. She inferred that I'm… well, I'm expendable? I don't know, she said that the team was fine before me so that's how I took it." Callie's jaw clenches as she listens to the woman who is quickly stealing her heart recount the conversation with the ex-captain. "I don't know. I think it was more just to unsettle me, you know? I had a good game and she wanted to take me down. …So I just told her to stick to her job, and I'll stick to mine."

"I don't get it…" Callie sighs, eyes glazing over as she thinks back. "I don't understand how she's changed so much. We were friends for so long and then… well, something happened between us and it's been downhill ever since." She doesn't mention the night where Erica made a pass at her and the Latina shut her down. If there is one thing Callie knows about Hahn is that the woman does not like to be embarrassed.

"The kiss." Arizona states matter of factly.

"What kiss?" Torres asks, confused as to what a kiss has to do with any of this.

"Your kiss?" Robbins replies, now confused as to why the catcher is confused.

"My kiss?" Callie questions, because the only person she can recount kissing in the immediate past is Arizona. "Wait, I'm lost, whose kiss?"

"Yours and Hahn's." Arizona answers, waiting for realization to light brown eyes but it never happens. "Wait, you didn't know you kissed Erica?"

"I never kissed Erica." The Latina states, pushing up into a sitting position to look down at the blonde. "Why would you think I kissed Erica?"

"Because Hahn told me she kissed you." The pitcher replies, also sitting up now.

"Well Erica says a lot of things." Callie growls, anger building at the thought of the ousted blonde spreading lies about her. "She's just-"

"And Addison." Arizona adds, making brown eyes light with anger. "You… You really had no idea?" Callie just shakes her head, trying to recall this so called kiss but she comes up empty.

"When?" The Latina breathes out, now feeling very lost and exposed for some reason. It all fits together a little bit better now that this unknown missing piece has been found. Why Erica was so upset when Callie turned her down, why Hahn has been so rude to Arizona and why her ex co-captain has been so strict when it comes to following 'rule number one'. It's because she's jealous… at least, she was.

"That night you invited me out with the team. When you got so hammered you couldn't walk straight." Robbins explains. "I mean, I didn't see it. But… Addison saw it. She said that… that ummm, Erica went to save you from a guy that was being pushy. She told him to back off, then kissed you. …And you kissed back. …With tongue." The same shiver you get from swallowing cough syrup runs down to the pit of the pitchers stomach. The image of Erica's tongue invading Callie's being one Arizona wants to wipe from her mind completely, if only there was such a thing as a brain squeegee.

"Wow… I… I had no idea." Torres sighs, hanging her head in her hands. It's one thing to get drunk around her teammates, which Callie has hardly ever done, but it's a completely different thing to get drunk and start kissing said teammates. A wave of embarrassment, shame, and a bit of anger at Erica for taking advantage of her fills the Latina's mind.

"I didn't either. You came stumbling into the restroom, finding me without a shirt on and-" The blonde continues, giving a full recount of that night.

"Why didn't you have a shirt on?" Callie asks.

"Teddy… beer… long story. Anyways, you stumbled in and somehow we almost kissed. Then Amelia popped in and ruined the mood." The pitcher says with an eye roll. Even when she was drunk and higher than a kite, Shepard had a way of screwing everything up. "But… later that night, when we were all heading back to the Quads, I offered to take you home instead of Erica. That pissed her off majorly. …When I got you back to your room, you were so out of it. But… you said 'I don't want to kiss you'. I was the only one in the room, you were talking to me and you said 'I don't want to kiss you'."

"That's why you got all weird after that night." Torres states, all those little things falling into place very neatly now. "You… you thought I was saying I didn't want to kiss you." Turning to meet blue eyes for the first time since learning about the ill fated Hahn kiss, Callie asks "I was drunk, and you believed me? Why didn't you just talk to me?"

"Because…" Arizona sighs, letting out a small, forced laugh. "Because I was the NewGirl… and I had the biggest straight girl crush in the world. …Or, at least I thought you were straight. Then I learned that you actually did like girls only to be told you didn't want to kiss me. …Was sort of batting double goose eggs there." Both women chuckle lightly, falling into a comfortable silence.

"You had a crush on me?" Callie asks after a minute.

"How did I know that's what you would focus on?" Arizona plays, shoving the Latina and making her fall back onto the bed, the blonde quickly falling on top of her.

"I'll talk to her." Torres whispers, tucking a lock of blonde hair streaming down behind a cute little ear.

"Don't." Her pitcher states, making brown eyes narrow. "It's… She just wants the attention. And I don't want to give it to her. So just… don't say anything. I'm a big girl, I can handle myself."

"I'm sure you can, Battleship." Callie teases, then closes the small gap between them with a soft kiss. Arizona immediately relaxes, her body molding with the one under hers and both moaning at the contact. Only now does the Latina remember she is without a shirt, and knowing that Arizona still has hers on is a grave injustice. Tanned hands slip down their bodies and tug on the long sleeved USA pull over Arizona has on, the blonde immediately understanding what her catcher wants and she sits up, pulling the top up over her head.

It's not the first time Callie has seen the shorter woman without a shirt, but it's the first time her milky breasts haven't been obscured by a sports bra. The white lace only enhances the slight tan Arizona has, and Callie's center heats up in a second.

"Stop drooling." Arizona growls, then reclaims plump lips in passionate kiss the next. Both women get lost in one another, hands exploring naked flesh but never crossing the imaginary line the drawstring of their pants make. It's enough to be by themselves, able to express their growing feelings with a heated embrace. Neither want to rush, or push things, both happy that they are finally where they are. It's taken months to just get here, on this bed, comfortable with each other and willing to stick their necks out. They are so consumed with one another that neither hears the soft click of the bedroom door closing, and neither sees a certain blonde haired woman walking way… with fire in her eyes.

* * *

AN2: Dun dun dunnnnnn…. Uh oh. Lots happening. So many ways this can go. How's it all going to play out. You tell me ;-)

AN3: Also, just wanted to say I'm not going to spend 10k words on each day they are in London, just wanted to put emphasis on this first day of competition.


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: Long time, I know. But here is the next update. Little shorter than the previous few, but it was the cleanest place to cut. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 24

The second day of the Games brings a morning ray straight through Arizona Robbins bedroom window. She fights to stay asleep, but a well aimed light beam hits her right in the face. A groan of annoyance spills from thin lips and blue eyes crack open. The first thing she sees is her roommate sprawled out in what looks like a very uncomfortable sleeping position. The faintest of snores escapes from the first baseman, her eyes covered in a sleeping mask and seemingly dead to the world.

Swinging her legs off the side of her hard mattress, bare feet hit a cold floor and a shockwave washes over the blonde. Arizona tries to rub the fog from her eyes as she pushes herself up, her body wavering as she tries to find a balance. Using more of a feel method than actual sight, the pitcher shuffles her way into the bathroom and plops down on the toilet. Only when her head bobs does she realize that she drifted back to sleep, and she shakes the cobwebs from her mind.

At the sink, cold water collects in her hands and gets splashed on her face, banishing the last remaining tendrils of her dreams. Finally blue eyes find their focus and the world comes into view. Her gaze lifts until she finds herself in the mirror, blonde hair all messed up and a look of sleep still marring her features. With a quick flick of her head, a series of loud cracks echo around the tiny bathroom as her vertebrae release gases and relieve the pressure in her neck.

"Oh yeah…" She groans in relief. Setting about her morning routine, she washes her face and brushes her teeth. As she stares at herself in the mirror, Arizona's eyes drift down to the low cut of her tank top and a series of bruises catch her attention. Stilling her movements with her toothbrush, a fair hand comes up to traces the marks, her mind thinking back through the last few days as to when she could have received her injuries without her realizing it.

Then images of last night fill her vision, and a dimpled smile creeps across the blonde's lips. That hour of bliss where it was just her and Callie, their bodies flush with one another's and tongues dueling for control. Plump lips taking full advantage of a shirtless Arizona, Callie tasting the blonde's flesh and becoming addicted to it while Arizona herself immersed herself in the ecstasy of being under the Latina's body. The air was alive with electricity, but Arizona couldn't go that next step. Not yet. …She wanted to, so badly. But… not yet. And when her phone's alarm rang at 10:55, Callie and Arizona resigned to the fact that their vacation from the team and the drama and… the rest of the world, was over.

"You are so screwed, Robbins." Arizona tells herself, and for some reason she's ok with that.

* * *

Callie surveys her team as they go about warming up for the first game of the day. They are facing both the Russians and the British today, not an easy day by a long shot, but she has a good feeling. That could be because she knows her team is solid and that they are riding high off of a two game shutout streak from yesterday. Or it could also be because of a little one on one time she had with a certain blonde this morning. Because of the precedent set by yesterday morning, Torres told Arizona that it would be bad juju to alter anything about their pre-game. Arizona tried to argue it, stating that just because they kissed yesterday morning doesn't mean it would anger the Gods if they didn't today. But… both felt how empty that line of reasoning was and neither fought it when they somehow managed to get tangled up in each other's limbs again.

But now they are on the field, their field of battle, and Torres is trying to wipe the image of a shirtless, panting and flushed Arizona Robbins from her mind. But that image is a strong one, last night being a night the Latina is sure she will never forget, nor would she ever want to.

Blue eyes find brown staring at her, and Arizona sends her catcher a flirty little wink while the rest of the team's backs are turned to them. But their little gawking fest is interrupted by Coach Webber calling his girls together and reading the lineup. First up they play the Russians, the underdog of the competition here at the Games, and the head coach decides to mix up the line up a little bit. Instead of going in guns blazing, his top strings taking the field, he lets the relief players take the field first.

"So…" Callie drawls, taking a spot next to Arizona along the dugout fence. "This is fun, huh?" Torres understands why Webber kept her, Arizona, Hahn and Altman out of the game to start, but that doesn't mean she enjoys being a bench warmer.

"Depends on the company." Arizona replies, dimples popping when she sees the Latina unleash her mega-watt smile on the blonde.

"Naturally." Callie purrs, a pinging of leather on metal turning her attention back to the game where Russia just got a man on base. They watch and cheer on their team as play by play passes. Every now and then the catcher's eyes drift to the woman next to her, Arizona's jersey top unbuttoned just enough for her to catch a glimpse at the delicious flesh below. This morning the blonde showed her the marks the Latina's lips and tongue left on Robbins body, and the thought of Callie branding Arizona in that way has done some… funny things to the captain's center. Luckily for the both of them, none of the marks happen to be above the neck line of their uniforms, so there was no danger of someone seeing the hickeys and asking the pitcher who she had been playing tonsil tennis with.

"Eyes on the game, Boss." Arizona states after she's felt burning eyes on her for a second too long. Callie blushes slightly at having being caught staring, meeting the blondes gaze before turning her attention back to their team where April Kepner just got the third out by catching line drive right to second.

* * *

The game against Russia was the quickest and easiest win yet, Arizona and Callie only getting one inning of playing time, but no one cares because it is about the team. Spirits are high and everyone is pumped up and ready to go into the next match. Great Britain will be more of an opponent, and the butterflies have started to flutter within the blonde's stomach in anticipation of taking the mound again.

After the team is released for the few hours between games, Callie hangs back and helps Naomi pack up the catchers gear while the rest head off to pass the time in comfort. She doesn't notice another one of her teammates waiting for her, and as Callie is just handing the last of the bags off to one of the field hands, Erica steps out from behind a corner and makes her presence known.

"Jesus!" Callie yelps, jumping a foot in the air. "Damn it, Hahn. Why do you have to sneak up on me?" She asks, her heart beating fast from the fright.

"I just wanted to tell you before you heard it from Webber, but I've requested a change in rooming assignments." The ex-captain states matter of factly.

"Wha… wait, why?" The Latina questions.

Erica takes a deep breath, her eyes roaming the empty stadium before them. "Because… I'd prefer not to have certain things flaunted in my face." Callie gives her teammate a confused look, because she has no idea what the blonde is talking about. "I don't… I don't agree with your decision to pursue a relationship with a teammate. It's against the rules and frankly… if it doesn't work out, it could shoot us all in the foot. But you know what? It's your decision, Cal. That doesn't mean I want to come back to _my _room and see you two grinding on each other like cats in heat."

Torres's teeth grind as she realizes Hahn saw… or heard… her and Arizona last night. The door was closed, which means Erica stuck her big fat nose into someone else's business, and that pisses Callie off. But then there is also the fact that Hahn knows something that could get both Callie and Arizona into trouble with the coaches. So now, the Latina is having to walk a very thin line.

Erica can sense the struggle her ex-friend is having, so she offers "I'm not going to 'tell' on you two. Not now. …But I hope, for this team's sake, that NewGirl is worth the risk. You saw what happened when you two fought the last time. Team chemistry went down the drain. Really want that to happen here?" Hahn asks, smiling on the inside as she witnesses her words sink into the Latina's brain.

With a pompous smile, Erica turns on her heels and starts to walk away when Callie's mouth finally starts working again. "I know about the kiss, Erica." The blonde halts midstride, slowly turning to face her captain. "Our kiss? …Yeah, I know about it. And I get it. I get why you were so upset when I… I turned you down." Hahn shifts her weight from foot to foot, uncomfortable with how exposed she has suddenly become. "And I'm sorry. But that doesn't make up for everything you've done since. The Amelia thing? Trying to intimidate Arizona? That's not you, Erica. What happened?"

Watery blue eyes meet brown, the ten feet between them seeming to be a mile. Erica wants so badly to have Callie again, but… she doesn't want just half of the Latina. She wants all of her, even if that means she ends up with none of her. How can she say that Callie broke her heart? It's not fair for her to put that out there. It wasn't Callie's fault Hahn has held a torch for the woman for so long. But it hurts seeing Torres with another woman. …A woman that has blonde hair, blue eyes, and a burning intensity. Just like Erica Hahn. So what is wrong with her? Why didn't Callie pick her? Why did Arizona win? It's not fair, it's not right. Hahn has always gotten what she wanted, and now she wants what she can't have. And that's one of the worst pains there is.

So without a word, Erica turns her back to her captain and walks away leaving Callie standing by herself just outside of the Olympic Softball Complex, wondering what the hell just happened.

* * *

"Time, Blue." Callie calls, making the umpire behind her throw up his hands to pause the game. The catcher jogs out to a very frustrated blonde on the mound, waving Mark off as she goes. Arizona is grumbling to herself, partly smoothing out her mound, partly kicking the crap out of the rubber.

"What's going on, Battleship?" The captain asks as she places the ball back in the pitcher's glove. The sun is high in the sky and Team USA is in the top of the fourth inning, with runners on first and third, one out. Great Britain has brought their A game, and Arizona has been frazzled the last few pitches.

"Nothing." She growls, averting her covered eyes from dark ones behind a catcher's mask, the blue tinted lenses keeping Torres from making any sort of connection with her, both on the mound and from behind the plate.

"Robbins, talk to me." Callie says, pulling out her best authoritative voice. Yeah, she might be acutely aware of how those pink lips taste, the way the blonde's tongue feels, and love the weight of Arizona's breasts in her tanned hands, but they are on the softball field now. It's time for business. Callie is her catcher, her captain, and right now she has to get Arizona back on track.

"Runner on third is jumping." The blonde sneers. "And the ump ain't calling her."

"Don't worry about the runner, Arizona." Callie tells her pitcher, placing a hand on the smaller woman's shoulder. "Your job is to worry about the player in the batter's box, that's it. Let me worry about the runner on third. Ok?" Arizona mumbles something incomprehensible, but Callie's been around the game long enough to get the gist. "Hey hey, look at me." The blonde takes a deep breath and turns her gaze back to the Latina while removing her glasses, blue eyes squinting in the bright light. "Just calm down, and take care of business, alright? That runner on third isn't going anywhere. You know why?"

"Why?" She asks.

Torres pulls out one of her best and brightest smiles, and says "Because Callie Torres is behind the plate, and nobody gets past Callie Torres."

"Is Callie Torres referring to herself in the third person?" The blonde asks, a smile slowly pulling at her own lips just from the sight of the mega watt smile on the woman in front of her.

"I believe Callie Torres is." The catcher replies with a nonchalant shrug.

"Well, Callie Torres better get her fine ass back behind her plate before it's met with Arizona Robbins' size 7 ½ cleat." The pitcher says, both losing the fact that they are in the middle of an Olympic Softball match.

"Callie Torres dares Arizona Robbins to bring it." Callie replies, taking a step closer to the blonde to try and intimidate her. …All in good fun of course.

"Pitcher!" The home plate umpire calls, pulling both back to their surroundings.

Torres takes a step back and says "You got this, Battleship. Just pitch to me, let me take care of the rest." With a nod from her teammate, Callie turns her back and jogs back to her position behind home plate. She takes stock of the situation, a runner on first and third with Erica playing third and Campbell at short. Callie would bet her small fortune on the fact that the runner on one is going to attempt to take second in hopes that the Latina would make a play, leaving home plate wide open for the runner at third to score.

Thinking back to the game footage Callie has spent weeks, months even, studying, she knows that the current batter is one of Great Britain's power hitters. Quickly weighing her option of walking the batter or taking the risk of pitching to the woman, risking a big hit and possibly three runs scored, Callie places her trust in the blonde on the mound.

Mark signals to his catcher to walk the batter, Webber not wanting to take the chance at the score tying up, but the Latina won't meet his gaze. "Torres!" He shouts, making Callie look over. He gives the signal for 'walk' again, but his player just shakes him off. She knows Arizona can take this batter, and she wants to give the blonde that chance.

Callie calls for a high, inside pitch to try and brush the batter off her plate, and Arizona delivers. "Strike!" The umpire calls, resulting in an angry sneer from the batter. Another pitch, this one just a hair off the edge of the strike zone resulting in a ball. Out of the corner of her eye, Callie watches the runner on third jump from the bag a fraction too soon. Arizona was right. A smile creeps onto the Latina's face and a game plan unfolds within her mind.

Tossing the ball back to Arizona, Callie subtly signals her pitcher. Arizona catches it and nods back. Feigning a need to take a breath, the blonde steps off the mound and turns her back to the batter's box, wiping her hand on her pants. Catching Naomi's gaze at short, Arizona swipes at her brow and subtly tugs at her ear. The play is in motion.

Stepping back up, Arizona accepts the signal for an away pitch, and Callie shuffles just a few inches in that direction. The instant Robbins starts her wind up, Naomi sprints to third, behind Erica and behind the line of sight of the runner. A blur of yellow streaks towards home, and before it even hits her glove Callie is out of her squat. Toned muscles move in precision and the Latina sends the ball screaming towards third. The runner is caught dead in the water, her early jump giving her too much of a lead. The British runner eats dirt as she tries to dive back to the bag in time, but it's too late.

"OUT!" The third base umpire calls, Naomi keeping her textbook tag on the runner until the play is called. The US bench explodes, Webber, Hunt, Sloan and Shepard cheering like little fangirls while those on the field shout and fist pump.

The ball gets sent around the horn, and the infield reconvenes at the pitching circle. Callie gets a round of high fives, as tradition, then everyone returns to their position.

As Callie turns away from her, Arizona smacks her firmly on her ass and purrs "Arizona Robbins is impressed." All Torres can do is chuckle and roll her eyes then retake her position behind home plate and continue to lead her team on to another victory.

* * *

"USA!"

"All the way!" The women shout from their circle around the pitcher's mound. Two more games have been played and Team USA has two more wins under their belt.

"Way to go ladies!" Hunt shouts over the excitement as his team file past the four coaches, getting a high five from everyone as they head into the dugout to pack up. "That's how you play some ball."

"Torres, hold up." Mark calls, Callie back tracking as the rest of her teammates do what they need to do to leave. Sloan distances him and his player from the rest of the ears, and lowers his voice. "Do that again, and I'm pulling you. You got it?"

"What?" Callie asks, completely knocked off balance at the tone and seriousness of her coach right now. Mark Sloan is not one who usually chastises his players, let alone Callie. They are more like equals than him being her superior. "What are you talking about?"

"I told you to walk that batter." He says, arms crossed tightly over his chest and doing his best to keep a hard look to his eyes. "Now is not the time for you to go show boating."

"But I-" The Latina tries but gets cut off.

"I don't want to hear it, Torres. I'm your coach. I called for a walk, and you didn't comply." Sloan states harshly. "Do it again and your ass will be getting comfortable on the bench, understand?"

"No." Callie answers matter of factly and its Mark's turn to be surprised by the sharpness of the other's tone. "I used my best judgment out there, something you've trusted everyday for the past three years. My gut said Arizona could take her. …And she _did_. You remember that, right? Robbins got the K."

"That's not the point." Mark rebuttals.

"Then what is?" Torres questions. "What? Are we supposed to be playing safe ball now? Here, at the Olympics? Because I thought now was the time to push ourselves, push the other teams, to take risks. That's why we're here, right?"

"She was frazzled on the mound. Putting that batter on first would have given us a force at any bag." Sloan states. "You didn't know if Blondie would pull it out or not. For all you knew, she could have sent a fatty down the middle and the batter would have sent it sailing over the fence."

"But she didn't." The catcher says, cutting her coaches argument down in one sentence. "_Arizona_ pitched the way I knew she would. …That's why you paired me with her, Sloan. I know how she works. Yeah, she was struggling a little bit, but we talked and we got her going again, right?" Mark rubs at his face roughly, trying to wipe away the stress of a hard game. "Look… if I didn't think she could have done it, I wouldn't have pushed her. But I knew Arizona had it in her, so I let her pitch. …Just like you have to let me catch, Coach. Let me do my job. There is a reason why you put me behind the plate. I'm good at what I do."

Mark searches his catcher's eyes, trying to come up with a half way decent argument. But as second after second passes, Callie can see his defense crumbling. Unleashing a smile on her long time friend, Sloan finally breaks and lets out a strangled laugh. Shaking his head, he just claps her on the shoulder and nudges her towards the dugout. Torres takes that as a 'you're excused' and starts to pack up while the coaches take a few minutes to themselves.

Rounding the corner out of the complex, a blonde jumps from behind a corner and startles the Latina. "Oh god!" She yelps, dark eyes finding shimmering blue ones. Arizona stands there, arm stretched out with her catcher's jacket in her hand, smiling at the flustered look on Torres's face. "Why is everyone popping out of corners today?" Callie asks as she takes her jacket from the smaller woman.

"Maybe you just scare easy." Robbins teases, the two of them falling into step side by side, neither of them thinking about how easily it is to find a common pace.

"Callie Torres does not get scared, she… just yells out at random intervals." The captain tries, her eyes lighting up as a giggle falls from the set of pink lips walking beside her. "And Callie Torres doesn't like to be laughed at." She adds earns her a playful nudge from her pitcher. The two make their way back to Olympic Village, both anxious as to what tonight will bring.

* * *

"Arizona!" Someone calls from the crowd of the cafeteria. Blue eyes scan the throngs of people but the blonde can't find anyone who would know her. "Arizona! Arizona come here!" The voice keeps calling, Teddy pushing her way through the crowd and appearing in front of her teammate. The first baseman doesn't wait for Robbins to answer, choosing instead to grab her by the arm and drag the pitcher after her.

"Teddy, what the hell?" Arizona asks, but her friend doesn't let up. Seconds later, the taller woman stops in her tracks, the surgeon running into her roommate with an 'oomph'. "Ow, damn it, Ted. What are you-" Her words trail off when blue eyes peek around the other woman, landing on the sight in front of her.

"It's Michael Phelps." Teddy whispers, eyes wide and the biggest smile on her face.

"No shit." Arizona replies, her eyes locked on the very tall man standing in front of them. The American legend is in the center of a group of people, signing autographs and taking pictures with fellow athletes. Only when she feels a warm hand on the small of her back does the surgeon peel her eyes away from the star in front of her. Turning, her gaze finds a star of her own. "It's Michael Phelps." Arizona whispers in the Latina's ear.

"No kidding." Callie states sarcastically, hip checking the blonde before grabbing her hand and pulling her through the crowd of fans. Pushing to the front, Torres greets the multiple world record holder with a big smile. Arizona hides behind the taller woman, embarrassed by her catcher's lack of shyness when she asks for a photo. The swimmer graciously agrees, and Robbins takes a step back, giving the two room for a picture.

"Get your ass up here Battleship." Callie commands when she sees her blonde shy away. The two woman stand on either side of the gentleman, three big smiles appearing on their faces as the light snaps. With a thank you, they leave the man to continue pleasing his fans. Using this distraction as a way to get away from her roommate, Arizona retakes the Latina's hand and pulls her out of the food tent, Callie not putting up a fight as she is led away from the rest of their team.

* * *

When you live in an apartment complex that houses thousands of people from all over the world, there is no such thing as privacy. At least, not outside your own bedroom or bathroom, and even then there is a high chance that a roommate could walk in on you. So try as they might, Arizona and Callie can't really find a place that they are truly alone. Instead, they settle on a bench at the furthest corner of the Olympic Complex. It has a view of nearly all the athletic buildings, lit up like Christmas trees with the rest of London serving as a background.

"Not too shabby for a second date, right?" Callie asks as they get settled, the Latina using the chill in the air as an excuse to wrap an arm around the blonde and pull her pitcher in closer to her body.

"Second date?" Arizona asks playfully, leaning into the warmth that just rolls off the larger woman's body. "I don't recall being asked on a second date, Ms. Torres."

"Well, Dr. Robbins… would you like to go out with me again?" Callie questions, her lips grazing the flesh just below Arizona's hairline. When the blonde doesn't respond right away, the Latina pulls back and sees the look of thought on Robbins face. "Don't think too hard now…" The catcher murmurs.

"Well… the movie theater is playing Transformers 3, and I've already seen it so… Yeah, I guess I'd be up for a second date." The surgeon sighs, feigning disinterest only to get a rise out of her catcher.

"Really? I'm Plan B? …That's nice." Torres growls, and starts to pull her arm from where it is around the other woman but Arizona quickly apologizes. Dark eyes roll as the blonde snuggles back into her embrace, and the two lapse into silence again. Ten minutes pass, both Arizona and Callie perfectly content to sit with each other and take in the beauty of London at night. Few people pass by them but without their USA gear Callie and Arizona appear to just be another couple sitting by the street lights and enjoying a quiet evening together.

"You did good today." Callie whispers, the hand that's draped over the blonde now placed against Arizona's cheek, turning the pitcher's head to face her.

"So did you." Robbins replies, nudging the other woman gently. Dark blue eyes watch as the easy smile on Torres's face disappears, a look of intensity now staring back at her. It unsettles her because it feels like Callie has the ability to dig right down to the blonde's soul and hear everything Arizona has ever thought, feel everything she has ever felt. Those carefully constructed walls that the surgeon spent months and months building have all but crumbled to the ground in Callie's presence. And Arizona doesn't know if she loves it or hates it.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Arizona whispers, their lips mere inches apart. But Callie doesn't answer, instead she leans in and closes that distance, luscious red lips meeting delicious pink lips. Their kiss is soft and easy, nothing like their make out session last night in Torres's room. The Latina pulls the blonde in closer to her, Arizona's head tipping back and a fair hand coming up to cup a tanned cheek.

They part when air becomes a necessity, smiles playing on both their faces as their foreheads rest against one another's. Callie's heart is beating a mile a minute and a very uncomfortable ache has settled in between her legs. The Latina wants nothing more in the world right now than to whisk Arizona off to the privacy and safety of a room and show the beaten and broken woman what it really means to be loved. Physically show Arizona what all the blonde does to Callie. …But she doesn't because even though they have made huge strides in their relationship, whatever relationship that might be, Torres knows it would be all too easy to push Robbins too hard and send her running again. So instead she is content to sit here on this bench, a strong arm wrapped around the only woman who has ever made her feel this way.

Arizona takes a deep breath as she tries to steady her shaking hands, the scent that is purely Calliope Torres invades her body and makes her moan in bliss. "You smell like Michael Phelps." She teases.

"You smell like Michael Phelps." Callie parrots, the two of them lapsing into a fit of hysterics.

"Oh!" Arizona yelps, eyes glistening with tears of laughter as she pulls out of Callie's embrace and grabs her bag. "Guess what I scored?" She asks, blindly reaching into her drawstring backpack and pulling out a plastic wrapper.

It takes Callie a second to figure out what it is, the dim light of the street lamp creating mostly shadows instead of aiding her vision. But then it clicks. "Gummy bears?" She plays, a big smile on her lips. "Where'd you get these?"

"I traded with one of the German soccer girls." The blonde answers while trying to open the package. "I looked all over for gummy worms but couldn't find them. These were the next best thing."

"Do I want to know what you traded?" The Latina asks in jest, but a hint of seriousness in her gaze. The thought of Arizona trading anything other than goods makes the catcher jealous, and that surprises her. It's not unlikely that there are many people around Olympic Village that would take to flirting with Arizona Robbins. Hell… Torres is sure that anyone with a pulse, man or woman, would be up for some action with her pitcher, and Callie snarls at the thought of it.

Instantly keying in to the slight tension in her captain's body, the edge in her tone, Arizona plays "Probably not." Only when her pitcher sends her a teasing wink does Callie relax slightly, an image of some other woman flirting with _her _woman still playing in her mind.

The bag of gummy bears slowly but surely disappears as Callie and Arizona spend the waning hours of their day seated on that park bench, all of London passing before their eyes. And all too soon, Torres's phone chimes a warning that reminds them of their approaching curfew.

Taking one last minute to enjoy the view, dark eyes drift to the blonde next to her, a dimpled smile shining brighter than the lights of the Tower Bridge in the distance, the Latina softly asks "Can I confess something?"

Arizona turns her head and finds the catcher watching her. "Sure." She whispers.

"Your smile is the prettiest I've ever seen." Callie states.

A blush, hidden in the darkness, makes the pitcher's cheeks warm. "Can I confess as well?" Arizona asks, light blue eyes meeting deep chocolate eyes in the low light.

"Sure." Torres whispers.

The surgeon takes a deep breath, ignoring the voice in her head that is telling her shut up, and says "This smile only exists when I'm with you."

* * *

At just after ten o'clock the next morning, Teddy saunters out of hers and Arizona's shared bedroom to answer the pounding on their front door. Today is a little different than the previous two in which USA only has one match. They play in the evening against the reigning Gold medal team, Japan. So for most of the day the ladies are free to do as they like so long as they are ready when game time rolls around.

Arizona barely looks up from her laptop as her friend opens the front door, revealing a tall and dark Richard Webber. "What's up Coach?" Teddy asks, surprised to see their head coach at their door. Richard only makes house calls for bed checks or bad news. …And there was no scheduled curfew for today.

"I need you and Robbins to pack up." Webber states matter of factly. This catches the surgeon's attention, and Arizona quickly joins the two in the main room.

"Why?" She asks.

"Just doing some rearranging, that's all ladies." He answers with a smile. "You two are switching rooms with Hahn and Campbell." When he sees his players looking very confused, he tries to explain as diplomatically as possible. "There is some… tension between some of your teammates so I'm just trying to make everyone happy. I know that you ladies get along well with Torres and Montgomery, so I figured you'd have no problem taking one for the team."

"Uh… no sir." Arizona answers, finding Teddy's gaze. But instead of the confused look she expects to see, Robbins finds a shit eating grin spread across the first baseman's lips.

"Great. Hahn and Campbell are getting packed up now. So, whenever you are ready just head down the hall." The head coach adds before giving his players a quick tip of his imaginary hat and turning on his heel to continue prepping for the big game.

Teddy slowly closes the door and leans against it, her arms crossing over her chest and eyes sparkling in amusement. Arizona tries to keep a blush from igniting her cheeks, but fails miserably under the scrutinizing look of her friend. The fact that she somehow stumbled into the opportunity to, essentially, live with Callie for the remainder of the Games is not lost on her, but Arizona really wishes Teddy would stop looking at her like that.

"So…" Altman drawls, tongue clicking against her teeth. "Guess I should have packed some earplugs as well."

"Shut it, Theodore." Arizona growls, shoving her friend as the blonde goes back to their room to start packing.

A half hour later both Arizona and Teddy haul their bags to their new apartment just a couple doors down. The front door is unlocked so Altman lets them in, finding Erica and Naomi on their way out. When Hahn looks up and discovers who is swapping with her, a dark, evil chuckle falls from her thin lips.

"Naturally." She growls to the heavens. "Why wouldn't it be her?" Just then, the front door opens again and this time it's Callie who enters, very confused at why four of her teammates have their stuff all packed, two of them not even belonging in this apartment.

"What's going on?" The Latina asks, noticing the hard glare radiating from steel blue eyes of her fellow catcher as well as the uneasiness falling from Arizona.

"Room change." Hahn replies sarcastically, her voice singing the words a bit more than necessary. Her gaze meets dark brown eyes and she adds "Looks like you win after all, Cal." With a snarl and one last look of contempt towards Callie and Arizona, Erica storms past the group and exits the apartment.

"Great. This will be fun." Naomi groans, not knowing what the hell just transpired but not looking forward to the idea of rooming with an even more pissed off Erica Hahn. They've only been here a handful of days, and those weren't fun, but now it seems that something has angered the blonde even more and Campbell isn't sure how much more she can take.

One second the living room of Callie's tiny apartment is busting at the seams with tension and anger, and the next it's full of confusion. Torres, Robbins and Altman all stand there, lost as to what to do next. Callie knew Erica requested a room change, but not in her wildest dreams did she expect it to lead to Arizona rooming with her. Well… ok, maybe in her wildest… wettest dreams, but she certainly didn't expect it.

"So…" Teddy drawls, glancing between her co-captain and her friend who have been staring at each other for the last minute. "I'll just go…" She adds, disappearing into recently vacated bedroom.

Arizona shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot, heavy bags weighing down her shoulders despite the fact she should be resting for the game later today. She doesn't know what to say. What do you say when you end up sharing a very small living space with the person you just can't get out of your mind. The same person who you know you shouldn't be thinking those things about. And yet the mere idea of it being 'forbidden' makes it all that more delicious.

Torres can almost see the smoke coming out of the blonde's ears and she knows the Arizona is thinking again. Thinking in a bad way, thinking of ways to distance herself from the Latina and Callie doesn't like that. Not that she blames Arizona. Her own mind is going into overdrive with images of some very pleasant alone time with her pitcher. But Callie isn't here for that reason, neither is Arizona. They can't get lost in each other, despite how much Callie wants lock herself in a room with the surgeon and only come out for food and water. No… they are here to take care of business, to play ball and win Gold. That is their job.

"We're going to need rules." Callie states firmly.

Arizona nods tightly, her throat seemingly gone dry while her mouth fills with saliva… if that's even possible. "Yeah… Yeah, definitely."

* * *

It's time. Game time. The air within the softball complex is buzzing and everyone is on the edge of their seats. It's only a prelim game, but still… USA is going up against Japan. The softball powerhouse of the world is going up against the reigning Gold Medal holders. One unbeaten team versus the only other unbeaten team. A rematch of the 2008 Summer Olympics Championship round, and everyone is anticipating a hell of a game.

Arizona scans the stands, thousands of people packed into uncomfortable seats and awaiting for the game to begin, and those butterflies start to flutter away again. She thought she'd be over it by now, over the wonder of it all, the thrill and anxiety of playing on the world's largest stage. But she's not. She still feels like that rookie, the one who gets put in the game with the score tied, runner on third with no outs. Like she's the one who takes the loss and burdens the hate.

"You're not nervous, are you?" Callie asks as she gears up, pulling blue eyes away from the stands and seeing the way Arizona is chewing on the inside of her cheek.

"Nope." She answers shortly for fear that if she opens her mouth more than she has to her lunch just might make a reappearance. Torres just chuckles, sending the blonde a disbelieving look before Webber calls his team into a circle.

"Alright ladies, listen up." He announces and everyone silences, just the roar of the crowd in the background. "The Japanese play small ball which means the infield needs to be on their toes. Outfield, make sure you back up the bags just in case because this team is aggressive. Their runner's are fast and they know how to capitalize on even the smallest mistake. We need to stay clean." The women nod along as their leader goes over everything they already know. "Hunt, give us the line up."

The red head steps forward, all eyes turning to their fielding coach. "Robbins, up first, pitching." CLAP CLAP "Yang, second, right." CLAP CLAP. "Campbell, batting third, at third. Torres, clean up, catching. Montgomery, fifth, playing second. Grey, sixth, left. Canner, seventh, center. Altman, eight, at first. And rounding us off, King, playing short." Hunt finishes, then nods to Callie.

"Hands in ladies." Callie calls, holding her hand out and the rest of her team following suit. "Game time, ladies. Time to show them whose field this is. On me… USA!"

"ALL THE WAY!" Her team cheers, hands breaking while the American fans holler their support from the stands. Those not in the lineup take their places along the dugout fence while the rest jog out on the field. Arizona and Callie take their time, both already warmed up and ready for action. Torres escorts her pitcher out to the mound, dark eyes scanning the stands for some faces she is positive won't be there. …But a girl can dream.

The entire Japanese team turns their sights to the blonde pitcher, all waiting to see what this previously unknown player has. Robbins feels the eyes on her and her palms start to sweat, a surge of adrenaline being pushed into her blood stream. The sun is just starting to dip and the slight chill in the air doesn't even register in her mind because Arizona's entire body shaking in anxious energy. With an assuring word from her catcher, Robbins takes her stance on the rubber and awaits for her first batter.

Callie checks her infield, getting a nod from both Altman at first and Campbell at third, then gives Arizona her signal. Dark eyes glance up to the batter standing in front of her, the Japanese woman crowding her plate and already starting in with the mind tricks.

"Wanna play?" Callie whispers to herself. "Let's play, baby." Setting up her glove as a target, she readies herself as Arizona pushes off the mound with force and sends the ball flying. It's a blur of yellow, the batter moving for it but holding back. The crack of leather against leather, the burn in her hand makes Callie smile. This is what she was born to do, this is what she lives for.

"Strike!" The umpire calls. It's game on.

* * *

AN2: …Lots going on. Second date? Room change? Erica and Callie? Erica and Arizona? …Lots of balls in the air. Which ones will fall? You'll have to stay tuned.

AN3: Just to let you all know, I understand that not everyone is a softball fan. Some don't even know the game (it's like baseball only better) so I'm doing some skipping around. Trying to give a balance between game time and stuff off the field otherwise each chapter would be too big, and it would quickly become redundant. Trying to keep it fresh, peeps. Things are going to heat up next chapter, so keep an eye out.


	25. Chapter 25

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: Hey ya'll. I know it's been a while since I've update last. Sorry. Here's the next chapter, Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 25

The apartment door slams shut as Arizona crosses through it, the last out of the four women to enter. Team USA's mood is… not good. They lost. Not by a lot, just one run. But still. …They lost. Japan brought their A game and just… outplayed them in the first two innings. Despite USA making a comeback in the remaining innings, they just couldn't catch up. So now Team USA stands with a 5-1 record, Japan in first with a 6-0 record. It doesn't matter, the record, because the top four move on to another round robin. After tomorrow's games, the slate is wiped clean. But still, that does little to ease the sting of disappointment and failure from the minds of those women wearing red, white and blue.

Callie stands at the small kitchen bar and sips at her bottle of water as she recaps the game in her mind. She quickly picks out a handful of scenarios that her team just… fell short. Small errors, that's all it was. Errors that, if it were any other team, wouldn't have cost them the game. But Japan is the cream of the crop, and they know how to capitalize.

"Well… that sucked balls." Addison states, letting the fat elephant out of the cat's bag.

"Eloquently put, Red." Teddy replies. Silence falls upon them again, each burying themselves with quilt of what they could have done to make a difference. Finally, Altman shakes her head and leaves the game behind. "Well… I'm going out."

Arizona whips her head up and watches as her friend disappears into their room, then exits. "Where are you going?"

"I don't know." Teddy answers with a shrug. "Out." At the front door, the first baseman looks back at her brooding threesome and says "No sense in stewing. It's done. Over. We got two more games tomorrow. We win those, we're in. So… I'm going out. You suckers can stay here and be pissy if you want to." The blonde pauses, waiting for anyone to comment. But when none do, she just brushes them off and leaves.

Addison slowly looks between her two remaining roommates, Torres staring at Arizona who is staring at the floor. "You know… a drink does sound good." Montgomery states, looking for some sort of out. Without asking for either to join her, the redhead leaves her apartment in search of a glass of wine. …A big one.

Only when the door closes for a second time do blue eyes move up from the floor and find her catcher watching her. "What?" Arizona asks in a harsh tone. "You don't need to say it, alright? I know it was me who cost us the game." The blonde sneers, her teeth grinding.

"You?" Callie asks. "Why do you think it's your fault?"

"Because…" Arizona drawls, using the tone suggesting Callie is being an idiot. "Because I gave up six runs in three innings? Because I got scored on more times than back alley hooker. …Weren't you paying attention _at all_?"

Callie has to bite her lower lip to keep from laughing. "Yeah… yeah I was paying attention." She replies. Rounding the bar, she joins Arizona on the tiny loveseat of a couch, placing a tanned hand on Robbins' knee. "And just to correct you, _I _was scored on more times than a back alley hooker. Not you." Arizona can't help the small giggle fall from her lips, but immediately bites her cheek to control herself. "But it takes more than one person to lose a game, Battleship." The blonde just huffs, not buying into her catcher's story. "Ok… was it you who bobbled the tag at second? Or overthrew first? Or didn't capitalize on the base running?" She keeps listing off the mistakes her team made, none of them being of Arizona's doing. "No, you didn't. You pitched. You pitched well. …They just happened to put the ball into play a lot more effectively than the rest of the teams we've faced."

"Why are you being so calm about this?" Arizona asks. "We _lost_, Callie. I mean, you get that, right?"

"Yeah, I get it, Arizona." Torres replies. "But… I mean, Teddy's right. Doesn't do any good to get all pissed off about it. I mean, I wanted to punch a baby at first. I hate to lose just as much as the rest of the girls but… I'd rather learn from this game and face the next opponent that much stronger."

"You're pissing me off with how much sense you're making." Arizona growls, pushing off the couch and shuffling to her new room. Callie follows, but doesn't cross the threshold. That's one of their rules, the 'no bedroom' rule. Hopefully if they aren't allowed in each other's bedrooms, any other… activities… won't have the possibility of happening.

Torres watches as Arizona strips off her loose fitting shirt and digs out a tighter top, dark eyes skimming the fair flesh revealed. She's draw to the curve of Arizona's hip, the slight dimpling of hidden abs and the ink covering the pitcher's right shoulder. All of it exuding strength mixed with softness. Torres doesn't realize that her mouth has gone dry, or that she is blatantly staring at the blonde like she is a piece of meat… and the Latina is a hungry wolf.

"Close your mouth." Arizona says, not needing to look up to know that the woman is staring at her. "You look like you're missing a chromosome." Callie's mouth snaps shut, a blush racing across the bridge of her cheeks from getting caught.

"You wanna go… do something?" Torres asks, wishing she could cross the imaginary boundary. But she doesn't because the 'no bedroom' rule was Arizona's, and the Latina doesn't want to push her. She's already folded to Callie's wants of kissing… and their date… and other stuff involving no shirts. If Arizona wants more to happen, Callie is intent on making her initiate it. Even if the wait might kill the captain.

Arizona plops down on her bed and snarls. "No. I'm just going to sit here and cook." She growls, pulling out her laptop and notebook. "Besides, I should be studying anyways." All she really wants is some time alone, but it always seems like that alone time turns into Callie time. Not that Arizona minds, not at all but… sometimes she just needs to be alone.

Torres picks up on the blonde's attempt to push her away. She doesn't know if it's because this whole roommate thing has shaken Arizona, or that she's taking the loss personally, but Callie decides it's best to let this one go.

"Alright then." Callie replies, sending her pitcher a big smile that doesn't get returned. "I'll just go… find Addison or something." Arizona just shrugs, intent on keeping the Latina on _that _side of the doorway. Torres watching the blonde for another minute, but blue eyes stay glued on her notebook, not wanting to meet the penetrating effect of soulful brown eyes. So with one last look. Callie leaves her pitcher by herself to deal with her team's first real loss.

* * *

Staying holed up in her room didn't last too long. Like the weeks before, Arizona soon became bored with the redundant material of her notebook and textbooks. Before she knew it she was roaming Olympic Village. The blonde hasn't taken the time to actually explore all the much, all her time being spent either on the field, in her room, or with Callie. Even thought the Latina is amazing company, addicting almost, Arizona can't help but feel the need to distance herself again. Maybe she's getting too close. Or maybe she's just… not ready. She doesn't know, but it's driving her insane.

One minute she and Callie are having a blast, laughing and talking and… kissing, wanting to do so much more than that. But then the next, life is slapping her with a cold bucket of water. Is their 'relationship' messing with their chemistry on the field? Was team's loss really Arizona's fault? Callie's fault? Or was the captain right, just a string of unlucky breaks and bad plays by USA.

Somehow the pitcher ends up on the same bench she and Callie shared just last night. The night of their second date. It was comfortable, and… nice. She and Torres just seem to click. But if the past seven, eight months have taught Arizona anything, it's that you can't trust people. No matter what kind of relationship it is, someone will always end up getting hurt. Getting betrayed. That's something the blonde is intent on not letting that happen to her again. Because she doesn't know if she would be able to pick herself up off the floor again, not if Callie's the one hurting her.

The moon is shining bright over the city of London and, just as every other time before, Arizona looks up and feels… better. Like there is some kind of sense to her crazy, messed up life. That maybe she isn't alone, maybe her brother is out there somewhere, causing trouble and breaking hearts like they did when they were younger. The memory of their last encounter replays in her mind, as it always does whenever she stares at the sun's opposite. It was the first time Tim met Rachel, Arizona's girlfriend at the time. They went out to dinner, and then dancing. …Because Tim loved to dance. So did Rachel. Arizona never really enjoyed it, she always thought she looked like a fish out of water, but she loved to watch Tim dance. He'd make a complete fool of himself in a room full of people, and not give a single care.

She thought her brother would love Rachel. Everyone loved Rachel. She was pretty and smart, she was going places. She and Arizona planned to take on the world together. But Tim saw through it, and it pissed Arizona off. When her brother told her that Rachel wasn't right for her, Arizona yelled at Tim. She called him bitter, and jealous. An ungrateful crapdog. That was the last thing Arizona ever said to her brother. She didn't want to hear her brother say she could do better, that Rachel didn't make her light up. That Arizona deserved someone to make her light up.

And now her brother is dead. She has no way of going back and apologizing, of telling Tim that he was right. Rachel wasn't right for her. Yeah, she was there for the good times but she couldn't Arizona during her worst. She ran as soon as it got hard. Maybe that was one of the things that brought them together in the first place. But they had no real future together, and now Arizona understands her brother saw that from the beginning. And Arizona wouldn't listen. Instead, she yelled at her brother, shoved him, told him to go back to Iraq. …And he did. And he died.

Those few months before his death, Arizona and Tim wrote back and forth, and the pitcher knows her brother forgave her. She knows that her bother knew she was just upset and didn't mean a word she said. He explained to Arizona that all he wanted for her was to be completely happy. To find someone who made her glow, made her world spin. Because he wanted to dance at her wedding, and dance with his sister-in-law. And he wanted to see Arizona and her wife completely and truly happy. That's all Tim ever wanted for his sister.

And now he's gone, and there is nothing Arizona can do to bring him back. That hurts most of all. She can get over her parents, millions of children learn their parents are divorcing and they survive. She can accept that Rachel left, she's been dumped before. She can even get over the fact that she failed her boards because… she can retest if she ever chooses to do so. But Timothy Robbins? There was only one of him, and now he's gone. So blue eyes, the same blue eyes that will never see the light of day again, stare up at the moonlight as Arizona remembers what an amazing man her brother was and she allows herself a minute to miss him.

* * *

An hour of hanging out in the common area of Olympic Village has given Callie a headache. The loud music and even louder people, everyone packed in tight and trying to impress one another. …It was too much like college for the Latina's taste. So she bid her teammates a goodnight and excused herself. She had given Arizona the space she wanted, and now Torres thought her pitcher might be up for a little company. After all… Callie could sure use some company.

On her way back up, the catcher stops by the small shop in the lobby and picks up some junk food for them, even grabbing the last bag of gummy bears on the rack. But when she pushes the door to their apartment open, she finds it empty. Poking her head into her newest roommate's room, she finds the blonde's shoes and jacket gone. The captain checks her phone for any missed texts, but comes up blank. There is still about an hour left before curfew so Callie isn't too worried.

Dumping the treats on the tiny kitchenette bar, the catcher retreats to her room and entertains herself. It's not long before the Latina gets some music playing from her laptop, head bobbing along as she attempts to study the game tapes of the teams they're facing tomorrow. But soon enough, the Latina's hips need to move with the beat and she's up, dancing along to the song. Tiny pink shorts barely cover her hips and the tight tank top leaving very little to the imagination. Add with that her stunna shades and Callie Torres is tearing up the dance floor. The catcher is so in the zone that she doesn't hear the front door open and close, nor the shuffling of feet that are drawn to the music.

Arizona stands at the threshold, blue eyes watching as her captain sways with the beat. Hips move in a way that should be illegal and strong thighs flexing beautifully in the dim light. Everything about Callie is perfection, the caramel skin, raven hair, soulful eyes, a voice that makes angels cry, and hips that would make a blind man drool.

The Latina is unaware of her audience until the faintest of giggles catch her attention, the catcher spinning around and finding her pitcher watching her from the door of her bedroom. Arizona's dimples are on full display and blue eyes are twinkling in the low light. Normally Callie wouldn't think twice about being caught shaking her groove thang in… basically, her underwear. But everything is different when it comes to Arizona.

Pulling off her sunglasses, brown eyes meet blue and Callie notices how flushed Arizona looks. "H-how… how long have you been there?" She asks, trying to judge how long she had humiliated herself.

"Long enough." Arizona replies smugly, her arms crossed tightly over her hest because she's not sure if she could keep her hands off the woman in front of her if they weren't pinned down.

Feeling bolder, Torres waves the blonde inside and says "Let's see what moves you got, Battleship."

"No." Robbins replies softly, "No no. I… No. Me and dancing don't really… I'm not built to move like you do, Calliope." The quick beat still fills the air, and the empty floor of the bedroom is just waiting to be danced on, but Arizona is not about to subject herself to that kind of embarrassment.

The captain studies Arizona, a smile slowly pulling at the Latina's lips. Callie crosses the distance separating them and grabs one of the pitchers arms, yanking it free from the vice grip across her body. "I doubt that." Torres purrs, sending a shiver down Arizona's back. Pulling the smaller woman into the room, dark eyes roam up and down Robbins body as her own hips start to move with the beat again. "It's just a little more Latina than you're used to, chica." She adds, turning the blonde so Arizona's back is to Callie's front.

The next second, a gasp falls from pink lips as Arizona feels the heat of Torres's front against her back. Strong hands rest on her hips as the Latina's own hips start to move and guide the blonde. "Just relax and follow my lead." Callie whispers into the pitcher's ear.

The slow and steady beat pumps through their veins as body moves against body. Tanned arms wrap around the smaller woman's torso, pulling Arizona in closer. The two move as one, the Latina's hips guiding the blonde's as the beat pulses and dips. When the song fades out, another, more upbeat and lively, song quickly follows. The catcher's hands return to the trim waist in front of her, and Callie smiles as she feels Arizona finally letting loose. The pitcher places her hands on top of her catcher's, a spark igniting at the contact. Suddenly, the easy and lighthearted atmosphere turns to anything but. Callie's fingers dig into the soft flesh of Arizona's waist, teasing just above that boundary of her sweats while plump lips ghost over the exposed skin of the blonde's neck.

Arizona's heart starts to pound, all of her nerve endings firing at the same time. Her head tips to the side without her permission, allowing the woman behind her even more access to the area, and a gasp falls from her lips. Torres is so far beyond playing fair anymore, and she decides to test the limits of their rules. One hand snakes up under Arizona's shirt, running over a taunt stomach and coming to rest between perky breasts while the other trails south.

Arizona is lost in the feeling of Callie around her, strong and skilled hands working at her flesh as if she were an instrument and Callie was the maestro. Only when a hand dips below her sweats, playing at the top of her panties, does she realize how close they are to crossing a big line.

Turning in the embrace, blue eyes stare up and find, once brown, now black eyes looking back. Somewhere during the exchange they have stopped moving to the music, and Arizona isn't sure if it's still playing or not because the only thing she hears is the racing of her own heart. Callie looks for some sort of sign, something that tells her to stop but all she sees is want.

Grasping the nape of the Latina's neck, Arizona leans in and hungrily takes Callie's lips with her own. It's a kiss she has been craving all day, as well as fighting all day. There is still that voice inside her screaming to stop, to run, to get away from this intoxicating woman while she still has the power. But Arizona doesn't want to. She doesn't. She's addicted. So she gives up the fight.

Torres senses something different from the blonde in her arms, the way Arizona is kissing her so fiercely is different from the previous encounters they've had. While the blonde was more than a willing participant, it always felt like Arizona was holding something back. Like she was trying to protect a part of herself. But now that barrier is gone.

Pulling away from hungry pink lips, Callie manages to say "We're breaking our rules."

"I don't care." Arizona replies in a breath before reclaiming the captain's lips in another kiss. She pushes the two of them further back into the room, needy hands tugging at the bottom of Torres's tank top. Callie willingly lifts her arms, the garment not lasting a second longer on her body, quickly followed by Arizona's shirt.

"We don't have to do this, Arizona." The catcher adds before she's silenced by another, just as hungry, kiss. They stumble back towards the Latina's bed, Arizona kicking off her shoes and Torres forcing her sweats down around the blonde's ankles, leaving her clad in only a pair of bra and panties.

Callie can't get enough of her pitcher's flesh and is thankful when the mattress hits the back of her legs, Torres falling back on the bed while pulling Arizona down with her. Hands roam aggressively, both trying to feel the other while at the same time disrobe themselves.

Even in the haze, Callie knows that this is a big step. When Arizona let's them up for air, the Latina pants "You know… maybe we should-"

"Shut up, Calliope." Arizona growls, her teeth sinking into the flesh of Callie's neck, making the woman under her gasp and moan. Pushing up enough to stare down into the flushed face below, the blonde says "I want this."

"I don't want to push you." Callie replies, a hand reaching up and tucking a stand of blonde hair behind Arizona's ear before cupping her cheek. "I meant what I said before. I'll wait until you're ready." In that moment, the frenzied need dissipates and all either of them are left with are much more… complicated feelings.

Taking Callie's right hand in her left, Arizona kisses it before laying it flat against her stomach and guiding it south. Torres doesn't dare look away from the dark blue orbs hovering above her, but flinches when she feels her hand being taken below that barrier of cotton.

Dipping below her panties, Arizona guides Callie to her center where tanned fingers finds a pool of moisture. The Latina gasps at the sensation, and Arizona purrs "I'm ready. So ready." before reclaiming plump lips with hers. The few articles of clothing still left on the women are quickly lost until two completely bare bodies are intertwined.

Fingers and lips and tongues take their time exploring the expanse of flesh now exposed. There are no worries, no cares as Arizona and Callie get lost in one another. Few words are said because none need to be said. The way Callie's hands dip between Arizona's legs, strong fingers working the blonde's body, speaks more than could ever be said with words. The pitcher's tongue, making tracks down tanned skin, draws invisible patterns and tastes the Latina in the most intimate of ways. It's not frantic, or hurried, but slow and passionate. There is no rush to the end, but a need to enjoy the journey.

Hushed pants and moans are the only sounds that now fill the room, along with the sounds of flesh meeting flesh. The smell of their arousal dampens the air, and the sweet, slightly salty, tang of sweat collecting over their bodies only adds to the complexity of their encounter. And as Arizona tumbles over the edge, Callie holds her tight and marvels in the sensation of her pitcher's last wall crumbling around her fingers.

* * *

Moving as slowly as possible, Addison pulls the bedroom door to, the mechanism clicking shut sounding like a gunshot. She and her partner in crime hold their breaths, waiting to see if it was heard by the couple in the other room. But when there is no break in the moaning or panting, they know that their friends are too engaged in their own activity to realize that for a second they had an audience.

Tiptoeing away from her bedroom, Addison turns to look at her newest roommate and smiles. Holding out an open palm, she says "That'll be twenty pounds, bitch. Pay up."

Teddy rolls her eyes and pulls out an English bill, slapping it into the redhead's hand. "Damn it. Why couldn't they hold out til tomorrow?" Addison just shrugs her shoulders, thankful that she chose the 'less than 24 hrs' bid for when the two finally cracked. She knew that this last piece coming together, that when Teddy and Arizona switched with Hahn and Naomi, was all that was needed to push the simmering sexual tension over the line.

"You're just mad you underestimated Callie's powers." The redhead replies with a smirk. Pushing past the first baseman, Addison enters Teddy's bedroom and takes a seat on, what would be, Arizona's bed. "Guess you got a new roomie, Altman." She muses, then kicks off her shoes. "Think I could bum some pajama's?"

Teddy pulls out a shirt and a pair of shorts, tossing them to the redhead, and plops down on her bed. The moaning from the other room can just barely be heard, but neither woman seem to mind. When Addison get's changed, the two crawl under the covers of their beds and flick off the bedside lamps, sending the room into darkness.

After a loud "Oh yes, Arizona" comes from the other room, Teddy turns her head and asks "You don't snore, do you?"

* * *

Something tickling her cheek is what brings Arizona out of her sleep. Blue eyes crack open and find the morning sun streaming in through the blinds of the bedroom. Her body is sore, a different kind of sore from the days following a hard practice. But it's a good kind of sore, content.

The tickling returns and Arizona tries to brush whatever it is away, but as she goes to move her arm she finds she has grown a third. A third arm with an amazing tan. Then the pieces click, and Robbins' feels the other body pressed tightly to her back. Callie lets out another deep breath, brushing a stray blonde hair across fair skin, cluing Arizona in on what woke her up. Images from last night replay in her mind and the first reaction the blonde has is to run. But the feeling of being in Callie's arms, being held and anchored to another person makes the pitcher push that thought away. Instead, Robbins closes her eyes again and tugs the arms around her tighter, her body squirming in closer to the one behind her.

The movement in her arms stirs Callie from her sleep, the smell of vanilla and coconut immediately filling her nose. Opening her eyes, the first thing she sees is gold. Her vision sharpens and she makes out the individual strands of blonde hair, her mind registers the warmth of another body in her bed. She can sense that Arizona is either awake, or on the cusp of alertness, so Torres places the softest of kisses in that crook just below the blonde's ear.

"Sorry I woke you up." Arizona whispers, trying to find a comfortable position but finding it difficult when two full grown adults are sharing a single twin bed.

"You weren't this squirmy before." Callie teases as the woman keeps moving about and laughing when the blonde growls in annoyance. Finally Arizona gives up the idea of falling back to sleep, then pushes herself into the upright position. Dark eyes trail the expanse of naked flesh, a tanned hand running from the base of her pitcher's neck and sweeping all the way down to the dimple of Arizona's tailbone. "Come back to bed." The captain says, not wanting their moment to end.

Blue eyes peek over her shoulder, the sight of a thin sheet draping over the Latina's gorgeous, and very naked, body making Arizona bite at her lower lip. But instead she listens to her mind and tries to shy away from the contact. Callie ignores the pain in her chest that comes from her pitcher pulling away from her, and sits up, holding a sheet over her chest.

"Arizona…" She tries again, placing a hand on the blonde's ink stained shoulder.

"I uhh… I'm kind of sore. I think I need to go work out some knots." Arizona says as a way to get away. She quickly finds her clothes and covers herself, suddenly feeling very exposed around Torres. Once fully dressed, her messy blonde locks pulled up into an even messier ponytail, Robbins turns and finds her catcher watching her. "Calliope, I… I…"

"Don't." Callie whispers, her shoulders deflating and her hands coming up to hide her face. "I knew we shouldn't have done this. God, I'm so stupid…"

Arizona watches as her… Callie… starts blaming herself for the blonde's faults, and it tears at the walls the pitcher is slowly rebuilding. Crossing the room again, she sits on the edge of the bed and pulls the Latina's hands away from her face. "No. No… It's not that, Callie." She says, dipping her head to find watery brown eyes. "I'm not… I don't regret it. Not a second of it. Believe me. …I had an awesome time. It's just… I need some time to process it. Ok?" She offers the other woman a soft smile, one that Callie tries to return. "Please, don't blame yourself. You did nothing wrong. I wanted last night as much as you did. And it was perfect and I wouldn't change a thing."

"Really?" The Latina asks in a whisper, searching blue eyes for the truth.

This time dimples make an appearance as Arizona smiles, and she replies "Really." Instead of trying to convince Callie with words, Robbins leans in and kisses the woman soundly. A kiss that makes both bodies tingle again and crave more. But Arizona pulls away, not wanting to get too carried away, and leans her forehead against Torres's. "It was amazing. …I just need some time to think, and get ready for today. Do you understand?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I understand." The catcher says, nodding her head and watching the blonde move for the doorway. Just as Arizona is grabbing the handle and opening the door, Callie calls "Hey, Arizona…" The pitcher stops and turns, blue eyes falling upon the naked Latina who made her feel so complete just five minutes ago. "We're ok, right?"

"Right." With a wink and one last smile, Arizona exits the bedroom and leaves a very confused Callie Torres. She doesn't know what just happened. Last night she and Arizona had some of the best sex in recorded history... on a twin mattress no less! She doesn't even want to think about what it might be like if they have actual elbow room. But now… Arizona is running away again. And it hurts more than Callie was prepared for.

* * *

"Damn it…" She growls as she searches for her missing sock. There are not many places it could be but she can't seem to find it. Tiptoeing around the room, the woman kneels down and looks under one bed, then the other. But still, no sock. A hand runs through tousled blonde hair and blue eyes survey the room, hoping it will just jump out at her. Movement from the one occupied bed makes her freeze, dark hair splayed over the rumbled pillow and tanned limbs reaching out to grasp a body that is no longer there.

Deciding to sacrifice the sock, she slowly and stealthily heads of the bedroom door and slips out. But even in the living room, she's not home free. There, on the tiny loveseat, is the ousted roommate of the dark haired woman. The blonde silently chastises herself for getting into this position, and continues to stalk through the foreign apartment until reaching the front door. Images of last night race through the blue eyed woman's mind, clothes flying off bodies and lips fighting for dominance. It wasn't soft, or loving. It was frenzied and all consuming. All the while, blue eyes were closed as the blonde was picturing a different dark haired beauty.

Only when she is on the opposite side of the door does the blonde take a breath. Relief floods her body as she thinks about how she successfully avoided something _very_ awkward. Her one night stand will wake up alone and probably feeling bad, but the blonde didn't think she could handle 'the morning after' and needed to leave before it got weird.

But that relief quickly leaves when someone runs into her, making both jump. "Oh sorry." She mumbles.

"No, my fault. It's-" Blue eyes stare into blue and a dimpled smile emerges. "Erica… what uhh…" Arizona looks up and down the hallway, this part of the complex a good ways away from where she and the rest of the team are rooming. "What you doing here?" Robbins asks, taking in the appearance of the senior player in front of her. Ruffled hair, shoes in her hands, and looking like she got dressed in about 3 seconds.

"Nothing. None of your business." Erica snaps back, trying to tame her hair while at the same time take on an imposing stance. "What are you doing here?"

"Woke up a little sore." Arizona answers with a smile, this time for a whole different reason, and gestures further on down the hall towards the workout room. "Was going to go loosen up with some yoga. Care to join me? Looks like you had a… less than restful night." When the only response she gets from Hahn is a bright blush, Arizona peeks over the taller woman's shoulder and sees the flag hung on the door. "Who is that? Brazil, right?" She plays. "You're not jumping curfew to converse with the enemy now, are you Hahn?" Arizona knows she's playing with fire, but it's just too sweet to pass up.

"Why don't you go stun gun yourself, alright?" Erica growls, shoving past the smaller woman and heading back in the direction of her new apartment. The pitcher just watches as her ex-captain, and ex-catcher, walk away, biting her tongue only long enough for Hahn to move out of earshot.

"Well well well…" Arizona drawls, shaking her head and smiling. "Guess I'm not the only one who got lucky last night."

* * *

"Ladies… listen up." Webber says to his team, everyone circled up in the dugout. "I know yesterday wasn't our best performance but we can't let that get to us. We still have two teams to play today in order to make it into the next round. It's all about seeding. We beat Canada and the Netherlands, and then it's a clean slate. I want clean plays, and lots of hustle. If a play doesn't go our way, you let me handle it. Yelling at the ump, calling him a ball-less imp, and getting throw out of the game doesn't help." All eyes turn to Cristina Yang, the first softball player in the Olympics to get booted. Thankfully, it was just for the remainder of the game and not for the rest of competition.

"We're starting off strong, so Robbins and Torres, you're in. Everyone good to go?" Richard gets an enthusiastic chorus of agreement, then he says "Alright Torres, send them off."

"Hands in, ladies!" Callie says, and the rest of her team joins the circle. "Let's take care of business. Our game, ladies. Our game. Alright, teamwork on three. One, two, three!"

"Teamwork!" Everyone follows. With that, their sixth game starts off. The entire US Team is still hot after their loss to Japan, and now they want revenge on whoever is unlucky enough to face them… first up, being Canada. Drawing the lucky card again, USA is the home team and gets to take the field first.

Arizona is already out on the mound when Callie get's her last piece of equipment on, and the Latina takes a small detour on her way to behind the plate. She hasn't had a chance to speak with her pitcher since this morning, and Torres is fearing that whatever happened to them is about to affect their chemistry on the field.

Robbins tenses as she watches the catcher approach and is grateful that the shining sun has given her an excuse to wear her sunglasses because no matter how hard she tries, Arizona can't fight the power those deep, soulful brown eyes have when staring directly into her blue.

"So…" Callie sighs, trying to find some sort of connection with the blonde but not able to because of those blasted blue tinted shades Arizona wears.

"So…" Arizona repeats, smoothing out her pitchers circle with her foot.

"We good?" Torres asks, keeping her words vague as to not piss her pitcher off right now if Arizona really doesn't want to talk about it.

"Locked and loaded." Robbins replies with a forced smile. The captain studies her teammate for another second and decides that that is the best she is going to get from the blonde right now. Tossing the ball to the smaller woman, Callie starts back towards her plate. Guilt tugs at the surgeon's stomach and before she can stop herself, Arizona calls "Hey Boss," making Torres turn stop and turn halfway to home plate. "We're good." She says. So with a smile, the game begins.

* * *

"I'm not going to ask you again, Teddy. Stop it." Arizona growls from her place against the fence as Lexie Grey steps up to bat.

"I'm not doing anything." The first baseman replies.

"I can feel your eyes burning a hole in the side of my face." The surgeon counters, turning to catch her friend staring at her. "Seriously, stop."

Altman purses her lips and the duo's attention turns back to the game unfolding in front of them but Teddy doesn't leave it alone for long. Leaning in, she lowers her voice as says "We really aren't going to talk about it?"

"Talk about _what_?" Robbins asks, her patience quickly running thin.

"Look… I don't care. Really, I don't. But come on! You cost me 20 pounds." The taller blonde whines, adding a childish stomp just for good measure.

"What the hell are you talking about?" The pitcher asks again, her eyes skimming over the rest of her team to make sure no one else is listening in to their conversation.

"24 hours! That's all you had to wait. A measly 24 hours and I would have been 20 pounds richer. But nooooo. You had to get your rocks off as soon as Torres batted her 'come hither' eyes, didn't you?" Altman presses. "I mean… I expected some sort of willpower from a Marine's daughter. I thought you said you two had rules."

"We did." Arizona replies, and it's no wonder that a headache is slowly creeping across her brain. "We just… I don't know. It just happened."

"Yeah… just happened." Teddy sneers, shaking her head and spitting out a sunflower seed shell. "Sex always 'just happens' to me too. I hate it."

"Teddy, please just… just leave it alone ok?" Robbins asks, turning to talk directly to her friend. "I don't know what it means and… and _now_ isn't really the best time to have a girl talk. So just drop it." Blue eyes stare up into greenish grey and Teddy finally nods, dropping the issue. But the first baseman promises herself that it won't be dropped for long.

* * *

Bottom of the sixth inning brings Callie Torres up to bat. Her team has been solid and the Canadians aren't fairing the storm well. USA is up 8 runs, but it's not enough. Normally they have a sense of sportsmanship and would start subbing players out when the score started to tip in one direction too much. But USA is out for blood now. They lost to Japan and they want everyone to know it was just a fluke, a onetime thing. So now the Canadians are on the receiving end of a strong ass whooping.

Dark eyes scan the field in front of her, quickly taking in the two outs and a runner on third, along with the placement of the Canadian fielders. Arizona watches from her perch on third base, where she has been stranded for the past two outs. The blonde has been itching to force a play but the Canadian pitcher and catcher are playing tight and giving the surgeon no room to run.

"Alright, Torres. Bring me home, baby!" Arizona calls as her captain steps up to the plate.

Callie looks down the third base line and finds her pitcher before glancing to Derek Shepherd in the coaches box. Catching the signal to swing away, the Latina steps up and gets set. First pitch is a strike off the outside corner, a spot Callie has been having Arizona abuse all day against the Canadians. The next pitch is in the dirt, making the blonde at third take a jump but Torres calls her off. A third pitch and the captain takes a big chop at it, the ball sailing up and back into the safety net.

"Way to fight, Cal. Way to fight!" Her teammates shout from the dugout.

Torres steps back in and senses that the pitcher she is facing is starting to crumble. Her grip on the bat relaxes and her senses hone in. When the next pitch comes sailing towards her, her strong hips and perfect contact send it flying back the way it came.

Arizona hops off third, taking a big lead but stopping halfway down the base line as Callie watches her hit sail… right over the fence. The US bench explodes and the Canadian pitcher throws her glove down as Callie Torres starts her jog around the bases.

Blue eyes watch as the woman rounds second, a dimpled smile on her face as she cheers on her teammate. Turning third, Callie looks up to find Arizona waiting for her, the two exchanging a big smile before the Latina touches home plate.

"You like that?" Callie asks in a low, gravelly tone that sends a shiver down the blonde's back.

"Very sexy." The pitcher answers, the two sharing a high five before turning back to their dugout, the rest of the team waiting to congratulate their captain.

After a round of high fives all around, the team settles down and turn their attention back to the field and Callie steps up behind Robbins, a hand on the smaller woman's hip. "That was for you." The Latina emphasis's her words with a firm smack on the blonde's firm ass. After all… it is a ball game, and it's what ball players do.

* * *

Riding high off their win against Canada, USA quickly storms the team from the Netherlands. It's a blood bath, only saved when Webber pulls Hahn and Fields off the mound and puts in USA's fourth string. There is a fine line between beating a team thoroughly and then humiliating them. And USA has more respect for their fellow teams to do that to them. So most of the A listers sit the bench for the back half of the last game.

And when Meredith Grey easily nabs a pop up to left field, the game is called. It doesn't take a genius to know that their 6-1 record is more than enough to make it into the next round and USA celebrates by dumping the cooler full of Gatorade all over their head coach. Congratulations are given, as well as the cursory high fives with the other team, and then USA lets loose.

Because of the length of the Games, the softball competition has a break between rounds, meaning Team USA has tomorrow off. So with another warning to not do anything stupid, Webber sends his team off into the night to celebrate their victories in whatever way they wish. …Except for three players who are sent to the press room to give an interview, leading Arizona, Teddy and Callie to be sitting in front of the bright lights and multiple cameras they find themselves at now.

Torres didn't have time to freak out after Webber told her she was going, but once seated in her chair, a blonde on either side of her, the Latina's stage fright starts to make a comeback. Blue eyes don't miss the way her catcher's knee bounces beside her, and if it wasn't for the numerous camera's all trained on them and rolling film, Arizona wouldn't think twice about reaching over and laying a comforting hand on Callie's leg. But there _are _people watching, so she doesn't. Instead, Arizona offers Callie a smile, hoping that it will be enough to quell the nerves racking the Latina's body.

Finally, after what seems like hours to Torres, the interviewer takes his seat across from the trio. "Welcome, ladies. And thank you for joining me today." He says with a smile, all three players smiling back and nodding. "First off, I think I speak for all of America when I say congratulations to you and your team for making it to the next round."

"So… where do you go from here?" The man asks, putting the question out for any to answer.

Teddy and Arizona naturally look to the woman seated between them, waiting for their captain to answer, but when they see that Callie has closed down, Teddy steps up. "Well… I think we just keep chugging along. Today… today was a good day. I felt that chemistry on the field and we were making good plays so… I think we just have to keep that going."

"The other teams that have moved on are the British, the Russians and the Japanese. What comes to mind when you hear this field?" He asks.

"That we have our work cut out for us, definitely. I mean, we're all here because we're the best of the best so… no team is an 'easy' win." Teddy replies. "We just need to face one opponent at a time and not worry about anything else. You know? We let our bull pen work, let the fielders work, let out bats work and we'll be in very good shape."

"Speaking of the bullpen…" The interview drawls, turning his attention to the two that have remained silent up to this point. "What changes need to be made when it comes to pitching against Japan? I know I'm not the only one who was very… shocked at yesterday's game. Could you tell us what happened?"

Sensing the need to speak up, Callie clears her throat and answers "The pitching was solid. …They just outplayed us." It's straight and to the point, and the man gestures for the Latina to explain. "Japan plays small ball, it's their MO. They force the defense to make a play. Instead of swinging for distance, they bunt and slap and hit grounders. They are a completely different team as opposed to, say… Poland. They just operate differently. And that's something we didn't really adjust to quickly enough. We made some errors, three I believe it was, which that in itself was a problem. But… they outplayed us. Plain and simple."

"There are very little doubts, at least from what I've heard around the water cooler, that it will be you and Japan in the final heat. What kind of chances does your team need to make in order to face them and bring home the gold?" The man asks, turning his attention to Arizona.

Running a hand through blonde hair, Robbins straightens up and says "We just need to play our game. Like Calliope was saying, the Japanese play differently and I think we kind of fell into _their_ game instead of forcing them to play ours. They play fast, they push for mistakes. But, when it comes to them in the batter's box, they are surprisingly patient. It's a very strange mixture of fast and slow, something that I, admittedly, wasn't really prepared for going into yesterday's game."

"But now…" The interviewer drawls.

"Now I'm ready." Arizona replies with a dimpled smile.

Turning back to the Latina, the man asks "How is the impact of Amelia Shepherd's absence affecting the team? Would her presence have affected the outcome of yesterday's game?"

Torres takes a deep breath and tries to sort out her thoughts. She has to remember that the public doesn't know the true reason behind Amelia's absence, only that she had to step down for personal reasons. "Naturally, Amelia is missed. She was a team mate and a friend, so her absence affects us all. In regards to the bull pen, it's hard to say. We lost a veteran player but then the last few days of our US tour, we picked up Lucy Fields, an ace pitcher from Alabama. She has been doing outstanding. She and Erica Hahn are a force to be reckoned with."

"As is Arizona and Callie." Teddy adds, making the four laugh. "Truthfully? I wouldn't want to be a base runner rounding third and seeing Torres standing there guarding the plate. I think I'd just give up."

"You and me both!" Arizona jumps in, her dimples popping with draws dark eyes to her pitcher. "I'd end up running back down the third base line, all the way to the fence." Callie pulls out a look of shock, feigning hurt at her teammate's comments. "What?" Arizona asks, shoving the Latina next to her playfully. "You're scary when you go all 'Eye of the Tiger'."

"Gee, thanks. I'll remember that." Callie growls, snarling a little at the giggling blonde next to her.

The interviewer looks on and smiles, this scenario leading perfectly into his next line of questioning he has written out. "What about off the field? How is the chemistry between you two?" He asks, already knowing the answer.

This question quickly sobers Callie and Arizona up, and Teddy has a bad feeling growing in her stomach. "Excuse me?" Arizona asks, feigning ignorance.

"Between you and Callie. You two seem to have great chemistry on the field. What about off the field? Is there a romance budding?" Robbins and Torres exchange a quick glance, neither knowing what to do.

The catcher finally finds her words and starts "I, I don't… No, there is nothing-" but she's stops as her eyes take in the picture that has just popped up on the screen next to them. Throughout the interview, the screen was showing clips of USA's performances, but now it shows Arizona and Callie, from a distance, standing very close together. They both have big smiles on their faces and flushed cheeks, almost like they were just laughing their asses off. Then the next picture flips, and Torres has a fistful of Arizona's shirt, pulling the blonde in closer. Finally, the last picture appears and it is a full on view of the players locked in a passionate kiss.

"Shit…" Arizona whispers low enough for only Callie to hear. Blue eyes lock with brown and in that instant their worlds come tumbling down.

* * *

Callie, Arizona, Teddy and Addison all sit in their apartment living room, silent and despondent. Webber stands in the center of the room, Hunt pacing back and forth while Mark stares down at the floor and Derek inspects the bottle of water gripped between his hands. The interview ended only a half hour ago, but already the fire is out of control. They don't know who took that photo, but Arizona and Callie have been officially outed. And their coaches are livid.

Richard takes a deep breath, his gaze turning to four of his best players. "Altman, Montgomery." He states. "Give us some privacy, please." Teddy and Addison had been hanging around in hopes of being some sort of support system for their friends, but they don't dare question the word of Webber. With a quick 'good luck' the two leave the apartment in search of safety.

That leaves just the blonde and the Latina to take on the wrath of four angry men. Arizona doesn't like their chances.

"What are we going to do about this?" Webber asks, taking one of the seats the other two just vacated. When all he gets is silence, he adds "We have rules on this team for a reason." This draws blue eyes up from the floor and Arizona stares at her head coach.

"Well… that rule is stupid." Callie growls, crossing her arms across her chest.

"No, it's not." Sloan replies in his authoritative voice.

"Right. So… you're totally _not_ shoving Little Sloan up Little Grey?" Torres asks.

"Excuse me?" Webber jumps in, now turning a serious glare to his fellow coach.

"You messed with the chemistry!" Mark shouts over Richard, making everyone in the room jump. "You know how fragile that is, Callie. And you screwed it, _literally_ in this sense." Sloan is livid and his hands are shaking, then suddenly it clicks in his mind. "That's what was going on, wasn't it? Before? When you and Robbins we're sucking on the field during those scrimmages. It was because _this…_" He gestures between the blonde and the Latina, "…was happening. And you were fighting." Neither Callie or Arizona reply because that man is right. Their off-field relationship was the reason they couldn't work together on the field.

"So, what?" Arizona snaps, having had enough of it all. "What do you want? What's our punishment?" Angry blue eyes dart between her four coaches, looking for someone to speak up. "What? No one willing to make the first move?" When none of the other's say anything, Robbins looks down at Webber and says "Here's a new flash, your three coaches? They've been screwing their players. Hunt and Teddy have been going at it…well, daily. At least from what I can smell off Teddy. I doubt her body wash of choice is Old Spice. And Shepherd? Well, him and Addison are all screwed up. You should really think about putting a lock on the equipment shed back home because they've been using it as their own little love nest. Not to mention the constant flirting going on between him and Meredith. It's… well, it's disgusting, really. And as far as Mark and Lexie? I don't know, but going off of Sloan's reputation it's only a matter of time before his sliver of a headboard gets another notch taken out of it."

The room falls silent as Webber takes in this information, Callie not believing that the blonde just exploded like that. That was the last thing she thought Arizona would do. And apparently the blonde isn't done because she winds up again. "So what? What's it going to be? Is having two lesbians on the team sleeping with each other crossing the line? Fine. I'll pack my bags and leave."

Dark eyes go wide as the captain watches Arizona head for her room. "Arizona!" She calls, bolting to her feet.

"What, Calliope? What?" Robbins snaps back. "I told you that this, us, was a bad idea. But you said to trust you, and I did. Well… guess it didn't turn out so well, did it?" The four coaches fade from their vision and now it's only the two of them in the room, Callie fighting to keep her pitcher from doing something stupid. "Look… since I joined this team, I've caused nothing but trouble. Hahn and Amelia and… and you. So, maybe I should just go. You guys were fine before I showed up, and you'll be fine after I leave."

"No! No, we won't. We _need_ you. I- You can't leave." Callie pleads, closing the distance between them.

"I can't stay either." The blonde replies, her gaze falling to the floor. "I'm… I get it. I'm a surgeon, so I get it. Sometimes you have to cut to heal. Maybe I'm the tumor. It's… it seems pretty fitting, actually, considering how messed up the rest of my life has been lately." Torres can see those walls quickly forming around Arizona's heart and she doesn't know what to do or what to say. The surgeon takes her silence the wrong way and laughs callously. "Yeah… I thought so."

As she turns to collect her things, Callie says "You're bailing." Arizona stops in her tracks, not believing the Latina just threw that in her face. Robbins opened up about her past, about how she bailed when her life got hard, and now the catcher is using it against her.

"You're bailing, Arizona." Torres states again. "I thought you wanted this, I thought you were going to fight for this. For our team. We were going to win gold, but you're bailing. I thought you were stronger than this. I thought you were a bigger person than this."

A knocking on the front door stirs everyone in the room, the coaches having been sucked into their player's conversation, and Owen opens it. There, standing in a top of the line suit, is a very polish looking older gentleman. Arizona can barely see him from behind Callie, but he looks familiar. Torres turns, a look of shock being hidden from her pitchers gaze as her back is to the blonde.

Dark eyes, almost exact copies of those Callie possesses, look between the four coaches in the apartment before landing on those of the two women. The same women whose picture of them kissing was taking up the front page of the Sports section in USA Today, prompting this unplanned visit from the older man.

"Calliope…" He states in a deep, fatherly tone. "Collect your things. You're coming home with me."

* * *

AN2: Dun dun dunnnn…. Lots going on in this chapter. I'll let you all digest it for yourselves. Lots more to come. Let me know what you think!

AN3: Just got hooked to this Tumblr craze. Come follow me at bowlingstar11 and I'll follow you back!


	26. Chapter 26

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: Sorry for the wait. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 26

"Dad." Callie whispers, her eyes wide in shock at the sudden appearance of her father. Carlos Torres, a man that never has time for anything other than business, has flown from Miami to London, and is now standing outside the Latina's Olympic Village apartment. "What are you doing here?" She asks, finding some strength in her voice.

"Taking you home." The older gentleman replies in a gruff tone. "Get your things."

"Uhh, Mr. Torres." Richard speaks up, standing and approaching the shorter, yet very intimidating man at the door. "Your daughter is in the middle of-"

"I know very well what my daughter is in the middle of." Carlos cuts the head coach off. "I opened up this morning's paper to it." He adds, shoving a day old paper into Webber's hand. The same picture that was broadcasted during Callie's and Arizona's interview is plastered on the front page of the Miami's sport section. "Maybe if _you_ knew what your players were doing, this wouldn't have happened."

"Dad!" Callie tries but gets shot down with that a look that says 'don't interrupt me', the same look she got repeatedly while growing up.

Richard looks between his two players, Arizona completely baffled while Callie looking lost and scared, to his three other coaches. Everyone is in some state of shock and surprise. "Sir… This is news to me too, but however I choose to deal with this situation, no one needs to leave the team." He says, making a point to catch the blonde's gaze. No matter what happened between the two women, he doesn't want any of his players walking out.

"I understand that it affects the rest of your team and I am willing to compensate you for that, but this is not a discussion." Carlos replies, then sets his attention on his daughter. "Pack your things."

"No!" Callie snaps. "No, I'm not going anywhere, Dad."

"Calliope Iphigenia Torres." Carlos growls, even Arizona quaking a little from the seriousness of his tone.

"Damn it, Dad. I'm not a child; you can't just order me to do something." The catcher shouts back, then turns on her heel and goes to the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Arizona watches her go, then slowly turns back and sees that Carlos's glare has now shifted to her.

"What have you done to my daughter?" He snarls, still not taking a step into the apartment.

"I haven't _done_ anything." Arizona replies, quickly going on the defense for Callie.

"My Calliope would never be with a…. a _woman_…" He sneers, like the word is poison on his tongue. Arizona is completely taken by surprise, but then remembers that Callie never actually told her that she was out to her family. All the pitcher knew was that the Latina had only been with one woman. "…apparently her time away from her family and her church has confused her. I'm taking her home before she commits an unforgivable sin."

"Like what?" Arizona asks angrily. "What sin are you referring to? Sleeping with-"

"Robbins." Webber snaps, shutting the blonde up instantly but blue eyes continue to stare daggers into the man. Turning back to Carlos, Richard tries again "Come in, please." He takes a second to think about it, but then finally enters the lodging enough only to shut the door behind him. "Now, I understand that this wasn't the… best way to learn this fact about your daughter. But she's a grown woman. She's the captain of this team. She can't just… leave."

"She goes with me or I'm pulling my sponsorship from your team." Carlos replies in a cold voice, like this is some sort of business negotiations. Arizona tries not to look too confused, having no idea what sponsorship this man is talking about, and keeps her eyes trained on the older Torres.

"Mr. Torres…" Webber is starting to panic, the thought of losing all the money the Torres family gives to his team making him sick. "…It's late and the girls have a curfew. Why don't you and I go talk about this in my quarters?"

Dark eyes glance past the taller head coach and find blue before looking back at Richard. "I'm not leaving my daughter in _her_-" Carlos jabs a finger in Arizona's direction. "-company. Callie is not spending another second around that woman."

The coach takes a deep breath and tries to think of a way out of all this. "Robbins, you're not to talk to, see, or spend time with Callie until tomorrow morning." He commands, his own eyes meeting daring blue. Arizona tips her head slightly, completely amazed that her coach would think that he could dictate anything about her actions. "Pack your bags, you're changing rooms."

"No." Arizona replies evenly, standing her ground between the door to the bedroom Callie is holed up in and the rest of the group.

"Don't push me." Webber says, his tone dropping to a dangerous level.

"Or what, you'll kick me off the team?" Arizona challenges, just hoping that either Carlos or Richard will bite. But neither of them do because they can see the seriousness in the blonde's eyes. With one last hard look, the pitcher turns and enters the bedroom, locking the door behind her.

Callie's head snaps up when Arizona comes in, and the Latina breathes a sigh of relief that it isn't her father. "Are they still out there?"

"Yeah." The blonde answers, crossing the room and sitting on the edge of the mattress next to her catcher. "So… that's your dad, huh?" She plays, trying to lighten the heavy mood but only gets a sniff from the woman. Redness surrounds deep brown eyes, and a Kleenex is gripped in strong hands, telling Arizona that Callie has been crying. "Hey…" She whispers, laying a soft hand on a tanned one. "Calliope, it's ok."

A laugh comes bubbling out from between plump lips. "How is it ok, Arizona?" Callie asks, shaking her head and dabbing at her eyes. "How is it ok? I mean… I was just outed on national TV. And then my father, my deeply religious father, shows up on my doorstep, demanding that he take me home. Webber is about a second away from having a coronary and you… well, you act like I was a one night stand. So tell me, how is it ok?"

Now it's Arizona's turn to feel like crap. Hanging her head in her hands, the pitcher sighs "Callie…"

"No, I get it, Arizona." Torres replies, wiping at her nose and trying to pull on a smile to cover up the pain she is feeling. "I get it. I was just a… a lay. I get it. I was the rebound."

"No, that's not-"

"Don't try to apologize. You're right; you told me from the start you weren't ready. That you had nothing to offer me." The catcher snaps, pain quickly turning to anger if only to make the blonde feel as bad as she does right now. "And you don't. You were just using me, like I used you with the Amelia thing. Well… we're even now so just… just leave me alone."

Words fail the blonde as she tries to search for the right thing to say, but none come. She's hurt Callie, and she never meant to. Suddenly, in this big, twisted, messed up of a relationship, Arizona has become the bad guy. And Arizona is never the bad guy. So without a word, the blonde stands and walks to the door. She peeks over her shoulder one last time, her heart breaking at the image of Callie curled up in a ball and her body shaking with sobs, and then exits the room.

* * *

"Think it's safe yet?" Addison asks as she and Teddy round the corner on their floor, nearing their apartment door.

"Hell if I know." Teddy replies. She and the redhead have been gone for a couple hours, but it's almost midnight and they really need to get some sleep. There was no curfew given to the team since they have tomorrow 'off', but still… professional athletes are very careful of their health. Sleep being one of the most important factors.

"God, this sucks." Montgomery groans, the two of them stopping at a vending machine only ten yards from the door. "I don't understand why Webber's panties are in such a twist. I mean, so what? They had sex. Big deal. It's not like you haven't totally opened up for Owen Hunt."

"Addison!" Teddy hisses, peeking over her shoulder to see if anyone else heard the redhead. "Like you're so innocent. Sneaking Derek in and out of our rooms, pulling him into tool sheds, hell… I'm pretty sure you gave him a good time more than once while on the bus. …With the rest of the team on board." Addison doesn't refute the claim but just runs a hand through her hair and shrugs. "Come on, we can't stand out here all night. Let's just suck it up." Teddy leads the other woman to their door and unlocks it as quietly as possible. Tiptoeing into the dark and silent apartment, they start to think that no one is actually there.

But movement out of the corner of Addison's eye makes her jump out of her skin, yelping and startling Teddy in turn. Seated in the corner of the small sofa, curled into a ball, is Arizona. Altman flips on a light, blue eyes squinting at the sudden appearance.

"What happened?" Addison asks.

"I don't know." Arizona whispers, feeling about an inch tall. "Webber got pissed; I kind of… threw the coaches, and you and Teddy, under the bus. Then Callie's dad showed up."

"Wow…" Teddy drawls. "You're like the best good luck charm ever."

"Where's Callie?" Montgomery asks, more worried about her friend than whatever was said during the conversation.

"In her room. She… she locked me out. Told me to leave her alone." The blonde answers, wiping an imaginary tear from her eye.

"And you left her alone?" The redhead asks, using the tone that infers that Arizona was a moron.

"She's right! I… I've been… I've used her. I told her I wasn't ready but she pushed me. And I said yes. Now… now I used her. I hurt her. I don't blame her for not wanting to see me again." Robbins says, tugging her knees into her chest even harder, trying to press out the ache in her heart.

"So go talk to her." Addison states like it's the simplest thing in the world. When the blonde just huffs and rolls her eyes, the redhead adds "Look, I know Callie. Just… trust me. Go talk to her."

"And tell her what?" Arizona asks.

"That you were being a moron! That you're crazy about her. That you love her. I don't care. Just go talk to her before she falls apart." Montgomery exclaims in a loud whisper. "Get off your ass and go talk to her before I shove my size 8 cleat up said ass." The blonde just glares at her, stubborn and unmoving. "You know… you're about to blow this. And not in a fun way."

"Why the hell should I listen to _you_, of all people?" Arizona snaps. "Either of you?" Both Addison and Teddy flinch at their teammate's statement, not expecting her to come out with gloves on. "I mean, it's not like either of you have a stellar relationship for me to go off of." Blue eyes dart between the two, waiting any kind of response. "What? Am I wrong? I mean, Addison here has been letting Derek use her for sex even though everyone knows that he has it bad for Grey."

"Arizona." Teddy snarls when Addison is too stunned to stand up for herself.

"No, don't worry Teds, I'm coming to you next." The blonde says. She knows she's crossing the line. _A lot _of lines but Arizona can't seem to stop herself. All the vile and contempt she has kept bottled up is spewing from her mouth and taking down those closest to her. "Do you even know if Owen likes you? Seriously? Like… has he attempted to ask 'hey, thanks for spreading your legs for me, let me take you out'. Or are you content with just being his play-"

"Arizona!" Altman shouts, now very pissed off with her teammate. "Who the hell do you-"

"Then don't you stand there and tell _me _what I should be doing!" Arizona shouts back, making Addison and Teddy jump. "It's none of your business, just like your two screwed up relationships is none of mine." The pitcher shoots out of her seat and storms out of the apartment, nearly ripping the door off its hinges and slamming it shut behind her with so much force that it makes the wall hangings rattle.

* * *

Deep brown, and puffy, eyes crack open early the next morning. Music from her iPod blares into Callie's ears, the Latina having put them in after kicking Arizona out last night so Torres couldn't hear the blonde asking to be let back in. The catcher was pissed, and hurt, and miserable. And she didn't want to let Arizona off just because she'd flash those beautiful blue eyes.

Only 24 hours ago, Callie Torres woke up with her arms wrapped around, who she thought, was the most amazing and most beautiful woman in the world. They had made love into the wee hours of the morning, and the captain half expected to wake up to some lazy morning sex as well. But the day started by Arizona pulling away… again. And it just got worse after that. Not only was their relationship, whatever it might have been at the time, announced on live TV for all of America to see, but Callie herself was outed. It's not the fact that she is ashamed or embarrassed by the fact that she is gay, or bi, or whatever she is, it's the fact that something so personal was dragged out before she was ready. Add on top of all that her father showing up and demanding Callie abandon the team and go back home, Torres is feeling pretty ganged up on.

But the long hours of self-imposed solidarity gave the captain plenty of time to think. Looking back now, Callie can't believe she let herself get so sidetracked with the NewGirl. How could she risk everything she has worked for since High School just because of a pretty blonde? What came over her? She's known Arizona a couple months, and yet Torres was willing to jeopardize gold… _her _gold… in order to what? To try and play therapist to the broken beauty? To try and start a relationship that Robbins herself didn't want? Well… no more. Her team is in the Olympics, they are starting the second round of competition and now, more than ever, Callie should be focused on the game. Arizona is her teammate, her pitcher, nothing more.

With renewed determination, the catcher pulls on some workout clothes, ties her long, raven tresses in a ponytail, and plugs in her headphones. During the long summer months of tryouts, the Latina would run when she needed to remind herself why she's here. And she's going to run again.

But what she doesn't expect is a blonde to come falling into the bedroom as soon as Callie opens the door. Blue eyes snap open as her support gives way, Arizona having been using the locked bedroom door as a prop to sleep against. The captain stares down at the woman, quickly covering her shock with a mask of pure distaste.

"Did you sleep there all night?" Callie asks in a rough tone.

Arizona struggles to sit back up, the cold, hard tiled floor not being the most comfortable surface to try and sleep on, and groans "You wouldn't let me in."

"There's always the other bedroom." Torres snaps back, stepping over the crippled woman and heading into the living room.

"Addison took-" But that's not really important right now, and the pitcher changes course. "Callie, we need to talk."

"No, we don't." The Latina replies, stepping up to the bathroom sink and quickly brushing the morning breath from her mouth. She can feel the blonde staring at her, and she doesn't dare to look up into the mirror because Callie knows bright blue eyes will be there, pleading for another chance. But Torres is done giving chances.

Arizona silently pleads for the Latina to look up, to give her something, but Callie keeps her gaze averted. A sigh falls from pink lips and the blonde cracks her neck in frustration. "God, I hate it when you do that." Callie growls, pushing past the smaller woman standing at the threshold and head for the apartment door.

"Where are you going?" Robbins asks.

"No where." Torres answers shortly, and with that she's gone, leaving a very affronted blonde behind to figure out how exactly to salvage this very messy situation.

* * *

Carlos Torres arrives back at Olympic Village in much the same mood as he left. He is a busy man and having to take time out of his schedule to fly to London and pick up his daughter is not something he is happy about. But when he opened his morning newspaper yesterday and saw the large picture of Callie and some other woman, whom he now knows is a teammate, embraced in a less than innocent kiss, Carlos was livid. His daughter was raised with better morals and values than that, and the only way to help her is to take her away from the evil influences that USA's softball team has obviously instilled on her. What other choice does he have? Callie is falling, and he has to catch her.

At just after 8 am, the finely dressed and polished Carlos raps on the door of the coaches' apartment. Having been expecting the man, Coach Webber quickly opens it and invites one of his largest sponsors inside. It was a challenge to get Mr. Torres to go back to his hotel last night, and only the promise of resuming their conversation early this morning would suffice. So now Webber must figure out how to not only keep his team well-endorsed, but also how to keep his star player a part of the ranks as well.

Taking a seat in one of the firm armchairs, Carlos gets straight to business. "So, Mr. Webber, what is the process for taking my Calliope out of here?"

Richard, as well as three other tense coaches standing by, wrings his hands and replies "Sir, I'm asking you to reconsider."

"That's out of the question." The elder Torres shoots down immediately. "Either Calliope comes home with me _today_, or you will lose every dollar that I am donating to the team." The two men stare at one another, each waiting for the other to blink first. But Carlos is an accomplished business man; he is the owner of one of the largest and most prestigious hotel chains on the East Coast. Men like Richard Webber don't scare or intimidate him.

With a sigh, Richard looks over his shoulder and says to Sloan, "Go ask Torres to join us." Mark's strong jaw clenches, the coach not liking the idea of losing his best catcher and friend this close to the end, but he obeys anyways.

* * *

Arizona keeps watch over the closed bathroom door. A half hour ago a very sweaty, and still pissed off Callie came back after a long run. The Latina didn't even look at the blonde as she stormed past Robbins and locked herself in the bathroom. The pitcher has been trying to think of something to say to make all this better but… how can she know what to say when she, herself, doesn't know what the hell she is doing. What are they? Are they girlfriends? Friends with benefits? Is this something real? Or just a summer fling? What kind of future do they have with one another and is it even worth fighting for? Arizona doesn't know.

But all that is quickly forgotten as Callie opens the bathroom door, her raven hair wet and falling around her shoulders and her body wrapped in a towel. Dark eyes flick up to meet blue for only a second before Torres looks away again. The catcher moves to her bedroom, Arizona quickly following, but Callie slams the door shut just as the blonde approaches.

"Damn it." Arizona growls, trying the door knob but finding it locked again. Pounding on the door, she exclaims "Calliope, let me in." All she gets is silence. "We need to talk! Come on, Callie. Stop acting like a child!" The surgeon waits and waits but gets nothing in response. She pounds on the door, prompting some less than nice words to be yelled from the two other sleeping players.

Minutes pass, but still nothing. Now Arizona is going from sorry to pissed off. "Torres, open this damn door! You really think running from this will work?!" At that, the door is yanked open with as much force as the Latina can muster, dressed in clean clothes and hair still wet.

Eyes dark as night stare down into blue and Callie sneers "You'd know what running looks like, wouldn't you?" A look of shock slackens Arizona's face. Holding up her hand to her ear, Callie mimics a phone and plays "Ring ring. Hi, pot? This is Arizona. Just calling to let you know, you're black."

"Callie-" The blonde tries again but her captain is having none of it.

"What? It's ok for you to push me away but… How dare I push _you _away, right?" Torres spits just as someone knocks on their front door. Pushing past a still shocked pitcher, Callie opens the door to find her coach standing there looking very unhappy. "Let me guess, my father." All Mark does is nod. Running her towel through her hair one more time, she tosses on the kitchen counter and slips into some flip flops.

Arizona moves to follow the pair, but at the door Callie turns to face her. "Where do you think you're going?"

"With you." Robbins answers.

"I don't need you, Arizona." Torres replies harshly.

"I have a say in this, too." Arizona rebuttals, taking another step forward only to have a very intimidating Latina step in her way.

"This isn't about you!" Callie snaps. "You wanted off the hook; I'm letting you off the hook, Arizona. You don't owe me anything. My father is here because of _me_. I don't want your help; I don't need your help. So unless we are on the field, stay away from me and stay out of my business." The blonde almost shivers at how icy cold the Latina has turned, those brown eyes that use to be so warm and comforting now as sharp as daggers.

Without another word, Callie turns on her heel and leaves the apartment to go and face her father. She's not exactly sure what to say, or how he'll take it. But during her run Callie straightened out her priorities. She's not here for a girlfriend, or a relationship. She sees that now. Arizona has just been a distraction, a speed bump, a mistake. The win has always been the treasure at the end of the journey, the gold medal, the victory. That is what Callie craves, that is what she has worked towards for years and years. And nothing, not even her powerful father or a beautiful blonde, can steer her away.

* * *

All of Team USA, save for a certain Latina, sit in silence as they await for their head coach to speak. Arizona nervously picks at her nails while everyone else speculates as to what this impromptu meeting could be about. The butterflies in the blonde's stomach have been working up a storm, and now not only is Callie shutting her out, but Addison and Teddy are still pissed off from the way Robbins treated them last night. It seems like everyone has turned on her, and suddenly the pitcher feels very tired.

The door across the hallway opens, muffled voices of Callie and Carlos barely audible, and then everyone jumps at the slamming that quickly follows. Silence fills the air again, all eyes turned towards the apartment where their captain was having a screaming match with her father. It wasn't long into the conversation that Carlos asked Webber and the rest of the coaches to leave, and now everyone is awaiting the decision.

A minute passes, then two. At five minutes Arizona has nearly talked herself into going across the hallway and seeing if Callie is still there, but just as she braces herself to stand, the door opens and her catcher enters. Even though Torres has spent the last five minutes trying to hide the traces of her tears, Arizona quickly notices the redness and slight puffiness to her eyes. Avoiding eye contact with everyone, the Latina takes a spot in the corner and waits.

Taking her presence as meaning Torres is staying, Richard clears his throat and says "I'll try to make this quick. I'm sure everyone knows by now that certain… things… have come to light. Namely, the breaking of a team rule." Arizona's cheeks suddenly become very hot and her eyes, that up to this point have been glued on a somber looking Callie, fall to the floor. "When you all became a part of this team, you signed an agreement. One of those stipulations being that any relationship within the team is prohibited. Now… it has come to my attention that more than just one individual has crossed that line."

"It was one time!" April exclaims, her anxiety becoming too great to contain. All eyes dart to her and the blush in her face cranks up about ten degrees. "Two… it was twi- Ok! Three times. But I told Jackson that-"

"Avery?" Yang interrupts. "You and Avery?" She asks, getting a nod from the flustered redhead. Cristina looks between her teammate and the trainer across the room who is now trying to hide his face, and smiles. In an almost proud voice, she says "Nice work, Kepner."

"That's not…" Richard tries, but sees that this could quickly get out of hand. "We have rules for a reason. That reason _isn't _ a relationship, but what could happen if a relationship fails. We spend most of our time within 30 feet of one another, and to have hurt feelings among us would only serve to make things more difficult."

"Just look at Derek and myself." Addison sneers, giving Arizona the stink eye. "Right, Robbins?"

"Oh why don't you bite-" Arizona snarls but gets cut off.

"Enough!" Webber snaps. Glancing around the faces of his team, he takes a deep breath and says "Things have gotten out of control. There is too much sneaking around and breaking of rules. …Maybe it's _because _it's prohibited that it has become a problem. So, I have decided to repeal the rule." All eyes snap to their coach as players and coaches hear what he is saying. "As long as it doesn't interfere with our performance on the field, be with whoever you want to be. But if it _does_ become a problem come game time, don't be surprised when I have no patience. You're grown adults, you make your own decisions. It's up to you to weigh those choices."

Standing and heading for the door, Webber adds one last thing. "You ladies, and gentlemen, have a little over 24 hours to work whatever it is you need to work out. But tomorrow, I expect Team USA to be ready to play ball. …Don't disappoint me." With another glance to his team, the head coach leaves the apartment to prepare for tomorrow's game.

Players, coaches, and trainers alike all sit in silent, each processing what just happened at their own speed. Some couldn't care less and quickly leave to enjoy the rest of their day off, while others catch the eye of those who they have been sneaking around with. With a smile, both April and Jackson leave together, hand in hand in public for the first time. Lexie winks at Mark, then stands and leaves, Sloan not far behind.

Soon it's only a handful of people left, Arizona staring at the brooding Latina still camped in the corner. Callie is still chewing over her encounter with her father, the weight of what had happened resting heavily on her heart. He wanted to bring her home, make her leave her team. But she wouldn't. Callie yelled, her father yelled. Things were said. Mean and hurtful things. …But then her father brought the axe down. He threatened to cut her off, from everything. The money, the family, the life. …So she cut him off. And it hurts.

Arizona can see the heaviness in Callie's body and she wants so much to go over there and hug the catcher, but those words Callie said just before leaving to meet her father still ring in her ears. So all she does is stare… and wait. Wait for some sign that Callie is ready to let Arizona in again.

Only when she feels the tickling of a tear sliding down her cheek does Callie realize the room has gone quiet. She looks up and finds concerned blue eyes staring back at her, Arizona perking up just a little at the fact that Callie is finally moving. But the Latina doesn't even acknowledge the blonde; instead she wipes the moisture from her face and heads for the door.

Arizona watches her go, not having missed that lone tear streaking tanned flesh, and pleads "Calliope, please…" But it's not enough. With a soft click of a closing door, Robbins finds herself alone for the second time today.

* * *

The crowd within the Olympic Softball stadium seems to have doubled since USA's last preliminary game. The field is down to four teams, and the electricity filling the air is palpable. It's been 24 hours since everything seemed to have imploded on itself, and yet Arizona finds herself in her uniform right alongside everyone else. Callie hasn't said a single word to her pitcher since yesterday morning, but now its game time meaning that she has to be professional. Arizona is starting off, which means she and Callie must work as a team even though both are broken hearted.

That loss of ease between pitcher and catcher has not gone unnoticed by the rest of the team, and with the help of their interview and a not so discrete article in multiple papers, their relationship is now known. What's left of it? No one is certain. But Callie has been given a bit more space because no one wants to experience the wrath of a pissed off captain.

After a favorable coin toss, Callie and Arizona, as well as the rest of the starting lineup, step out of the dugout and head to their positions. Normally the catcher accompanies the blonde to the mound, but Torres immediately heads toward her plate.

"Hey, Boss…" Arizona calls as she crosses the chalk. Callie turns, her dark eyes finding blue from behind her catcher's mask. The pitcher tries to find something to say, something to make everything ok but comes up empty. Instead, all she can offer is "I'm sorry."

Torres just shakes her head and says "Focus on the game, Robbins."

* * *

Considering the fact that Callie can't stand to be in the same time zone as Arizona right now, the two are performing well. The blonde is on fire, giving the Russians a run for their money. The first three innings come and go and USA remains clean. Only two runners have made it on base, but expert fielding and teamwork as resulted in a score of 4-0, USA in the lead. Torres has been able to tunnel her entire focus into the game, pushing away all the hurt feelings out of her mind. She leads the team like a true leader, calling pitches perfectly and leading by example when it comes to batting.

The top of the fourth inning brings the top of the Russians batting order. The other team has gone from competitive to angry, not liking the fact that USA is disposing of them so easily. Their tactics and game play have taken a turn to the more questionable side. Slides are more aggressive, tags are stronger, and the pitches are getting closer and closer to the American batters. But the US doesn't let that get to them, instead forcing the Russians to play their ball.

Arizona controls the tempo of the game from the mound, always aware of the runners on base and the batter in the batter's box. Thanks to Lexie's photographic memory, mixed with Torres's excellent instincts, the blonde is able to face every single Russian hitter with a perfect game plan. When she feels that someone is getting a little anxious on the bags, the pitcher steps off the mound and ices them out a bit. When a batter gets lazy, Arizona puts her back on their toes by giving them a couple pitches to chase. All in all, USA is playing gold level ball.

The first two batters she faces in the fourth hit solid bloopers and get on base. The threat of Callie's cannon of an arm keeps them on their base, but Robbins can feel the pressure of those runners watching and waiting… waiting for a slip up. The third hitter steps up and after fighting until a full count, she sends a rocket to the left side of the field. Erica, playing further down the base line because of the runner on second, pushes off her toes and lays out to stop the grounder. Rolling and popping up on a knee, the veteran player sends a heater to first where Teddy uses her long limbs to stretch out and barely beat the runner.

"Out!" The first plate umpire exclaims before calling time. As usual, the ball gets sent around the horn before the infield convenes in the pitcher's circle. A round of high fives, and then everyone heads back.

Waiting a beat until most move out of earshot, Callie nods to the runner now on third and says "Stay tight. She's got some wheels and has been itching to jump all day."

"Right." Arizona replies, glancing to the smirking Russian on third. Even though an out was made, the runners advanced creating a more difficult situation. Normally Robbins would consider walking the next batter just to fill the bags and create a force, but she's on fire right now and doesn't want to give up that walk.

Sloan thinks the same because when Callie looks to her coach for a sign he gives her nothing. So Torres sets up and signals for something high and inside. The number four batter for Russia fights every pitch sent by the US until the count is 2-2 with three foul tips. So the captain decides to shake her up a bit and calls for a drop. Arizona nods and winds up, but at the release her fingers slip just a tad. Normally Torres is able to stop anything within a five foot radius of her, but the stray pitch, mixed with the dirt kicked up from the batter when trying to move out of the way, Torres loses track of it.

The ball bounces off her glove and goes rolling back behind her to the backstop. In a split second a chain reaction happens. The runner on third makes a jump, Arizona racing as fast as she can to home to cover while Callie chases after the ball. She rips off her mask to get a better field of vision in the same second her pitcher arrives at home. In a move perfected from hundreds and thousands of hours of practice and game play, the Latina finds the ball and throws it to Arizona without even taking the half second to find her.

The blonde can almost feel the runner coming at her like a freight train, but she keeps her eyes on the sailing ball. Only when its firmly in her glove does the pitcher turn and get set for the impending play. But the Russian runner isn't about to give up so easily, not after having to fight for four innings just to make it to third. Falling into a perfect slide, the comes in with cleats up, digging into the flesh, muscle and tissue of Arizona as the two collide.

Robbins falls on top of the Russian, pain coursing up and down her leg, but her grip on the ball stays solid. The dust settles and the pitcher raises her glove for the ump, eliciting a loud "OUT!"

Callie, having been all of five feet away from the action, is at the dog pile immediately. A look of pain is etched on the blonde's face and the Latina reaches out to help her up. "Arizona?" She asks softly.

"Ow." She groans, attempting to stand but her knee giving out.

Callie sets her back down while the Russian scampers off, Torres looking toward her bench and calling "Medic!" Avery and Karev are racing out onto the field the next minute, their training bags ready for action. Looking back down at her injured teammate, Callie can see the torn material of their pants, along with a trail of blood leaking from a nasty looking wound.

Time is called and the US fielders all gather into a huddle while their trainers take a look at Arizona. Callie gets pushed back and out of the way, but she never looks away from the grimacing blonde in the dirt.

"I don't think it's broken." Arizona growls as Avery tests her knee. Not only did the impact of the run in knock the air out of her chest, but the Russians cleat found a nice fleshy area just behind Robbins' knee and only dug in more when the blonde fell.

"Can you stand?" Alex asks as he and Jackson help the blonde up to her feet. Arizona takes one step, then another, and then another. The crowd starts to cheer as they see the pitcher walking, prompting Arizona to let go of the two guys and limp off the field under her own powers.

While Lucy and Erica, subbed in for Arizona and Callie, get warmed up, those not on the field gather around as the trainers continue to examine their number one pitcher. Webber anxiously waits for the news, all the while trying to think up alternative game plans if Arizona is done for. Callie, having been put at third after being pulled from catching, keeps her attention focused on the field, trying not to think about how much she actually wants to be in the dugout with her pitcher.

* * *

"Good game. Good game. Good game. Good game." Those two words are said about a hundred times as the Americans and Russians shake hands. After seven innings, US has come out on top again. Lucy and Erica continued to uphold the scoreless streak of the Russians, and now everyone is riding high on yet another win.

The team packs up and heads back to get some food while Webber tells Callie to talk to the reporter. With a sigh, Torres approaches the woman with the microphone, the Latina immediately starting to sweat just at the sight of that intimidating camera.

"So Callie, another win. How is everyone feeling?" The woman asks, the bright spot light shining right into her eyes.

"Uhh, uhh, g-good." Torres stutters, trying to ignore the fact that even though she has no food in her stomach there is a very real possibility that she may ruin this woman's shoes.

"Tomorrow is the Japanese. Think you'll do better than the last match up between you two?" The interviewer asks.

"Yep." Callie answers, her gaze drifting from the woman holding the microphone to the blonde limping by. The interviewer follows the players line of sight and sees Arizona.

"Arizona!" She calls, flagging the pitcher down. Blue eyes go wide in surprise, but within ten seconds she too is being roped into an interview. "How's the leg? Will you be good to play tomorrow or will USA have to take on the, now said, top ranking team in the field without their ace pitcher?"

"I, uhhh… Yeah, I'll be ready. Nothing a little ice and bengay won't fix." Robbins answers, the two of them chuckling while Callie makes a very awkward chortling sound.

"And any developments on the romantic front? How has the competition affected yours and Callie's relationship?" It's too juicy for the interviewer to just dismiss, especially when she has both women right here in front of her camera. It's all about the ratings after all.

"No comment." Callie sneers, then walks away from the camera. Arizona watches her go, and with an apologetic smile to the interviewer, she takes off after the Latina.

By now most of US is already gone, their equipment having been taken up and the team now focused on getting food. All those thoughts and feelings that the captain had been ignoring now come racing back. The game is over so now there is nothing for her to focus on besides the ache in her chest. Her conversation with her father keeps playing on a loop in her mind, and the hurt of Arizona walking away from her tears at her heart. She put herself out there and got rejected. Not just by Arizona, but by her father. Sure, she got Carlos to not pull his funding from the team, but he cut _her_ off instead. He is Callie's father, he is suppose to love her no matter what.

Arizona tries to keep pace with the retreating captain, but her gimpy knee slows her down so she yells "Callie!" Torres doesn't stop, but instead quickens her stride. "God damn it Torres. Just stop!"

"Why?" Callie snaps, spinning around staring right at the blonde. "Why, Arizona? What do you have to say now?"

"I… I'm-"

"Sorry. Yeah, you said that already." Torres bites, all her hurt and anger quickly bubbling out. "What else do you got?" Arizona searches for everything she wants to say, but there is too much and her mouth doesn't seem to be able to catch up to anything her brain is telling her to say.

"God!" Callie cries, tears springing from her eyes. "What? What, Arizona? What can I possibly give you now? Huh?" The darkness of the night surrounds them, only a handful of people being anywhere's close enough to hear their conversation. "I am so tired of this hot and cold thing, Arizona. I can't do it anymore. Ok? I don't _want _to do it anymore. I am a _captain_, I can't act like a love sick puppy anymore."

Silence comes again, blue eyes meeting brown across the darkness, only a couple street lamps lighting the area. Arizona takes a couple steps forward, and says "I never wanted to hurt you, Calliope. …I care for you too much. I just… I want to be with you, I just don't know if I can."

A sarcastic laugh falls from plump lips and Callie says "I'm out of my element here. …I play softball for a living, I intimidate and I punish batters. Most days I wear the last night's eyeliner to practice. I don't give a crap what other people think about me because I am a happily independent, strong and successful woman and I like it that way. …Only when you say things like _that,_ it makes things too hard."

"Calliope…" Arizona sighs, reaching out to find some sort of connection with her catcher.

Taking a step back, dark eyes find blue and Callie says "Please… don't chase me anymore. …Unless you're ready to catch me." The two stand in silence, each waiting for the other to make a move, but neither does. As much as Arizona wants so badly to pull the Latina in and kiss her, kiss her like she's never been kissed before, she can't. Because she doesn't know if she's ready.

So with one last falling tear, Callie turns and walks away, not knowing if she just made the biggest mistake of her life or if she just saved herself a life's worth of heartache.

* * *

AN2: Are things going to get worse before they get better? Stay tuned.


	27. Chapter 27

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: Sorry for the long wait. Hopefully it was worth it. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 27

The glow of a computer screen mixes with the flickering light of the small TV in the living room, a well dressed man in his mid forties talking but no sound filling the room. Blue eyes stare down at her lap, Arizona Robbins searching the big name American news stations for updates and Olympic news. For being as close to the action as she is, the pitcher knows very little as to how other sports and USA teams are fairing. Maybe it's because she's been too wrapped up in other matters, or maybe it's because she really doesn't care.

But when her cursor moves over a bolded headline reading "Lovers win again. USA dominates Russian in Olympic Softball", Arizona can't resist but clicking the link. Instead of an article popping up, a video window opens and a news segment starts to roll.

"Coming to Olympic Softball, the US ladies have once again bested their opponents with a shutout game against the Russians. Arizona Robbins led the team to their victory by racking up an astounding 5 strike outs in her four innings on the mound but only went 1 for 3 at bat. Captain Callie Torres was on fire, hitting 4 for 5, including a deep right triple which brought in two American runs." Clips of game play are run along with the commentary, ending on the nasty run in that took the blonde out of the game. "Robbins was pulled after a minor injury but team doctors say that she will be ready to play again tomorrow." Then a picture, _the _picture, pops up and the commentator switches gears.

"As far as the little romance budding on the US Softball team, inside sources say that the relationship between Arizona Robbins and Callie Torres is, quote, dangerous and threatening to the chemistry of the team. It's fine if all is good in paradise, but what will happen if their honeymoon comes to a nasty end? …I don't want to be there for it. End quote. Well… going off of tonight's footage…" A shaky and dark video stream pops up and Arizona can just barely make Callie and herself out. It's obvious that the two of them are fighting, but the concealed camera is just far enough away to not be able to distinguish any words.

"…that honeymoon might be ending sooner than they planned. Let's just hope they can keep the cat fighting _off _the field. We wouldn't want to see-" Arizona doesn't even wait to hear the rest of the segment, instead she slams her laptop closed and tosses it onto the cushion next to her. It's the morning after their win against Russia, the morning after Callie had her blow up. And as much as the blonde knows she should be sleeping, she just can't. Callie's words keep replaying in her mind, the pain and the tears of that memory still clear enough that if Arizona closes her eyes, she sure she could reach out and touch them.

She was up when Callie came out of her bedroom, running clothes on and an her earphones in her ears, but the two never even made eye contact. It's like the Latina can't even see her. Arizona thought about changing real fast and going after her, chasing her catcher around all of London if she needed to just to get Torres to talk to her, but that would do more harm than good. Because Callie would want an answer, and the blonde just can't give her that yet.

It's not that Arizona doesn't want Callie, she does. So much. Who _wouldn't _want to be with someone like Callie Torres? It's just that… she doesn't know if she can handle it. Arizona's emotional state is one level above being declared a national disaster. Her life, as she knew it, is over. She doesn't even know where she is going once this whole Olympic Softball thing ends. Back to Johns Hopkins? No, because she doesn't have a job there. Back to Maryland and her parents? No, because her parents aren't there anymore. Back to the apartment she and her girlfriend lived in? No, because her girlfriend kept it. So… yeah, Arizona Robbins is lost. Adrift at sea. Just going where ever the currents take her. And it wouldn't be fair of her to start something with Callie unless she knew that she could be there. Like, really, truly be in that relationship because that is what Callie Torres deserves.

A sharp knock on the front door stirs Arizona from her pity party and the blonde shuffles over to answer it. Whoever she was expecting to be on the other side, it wasn't this man. But there he is, the polished and intimidating looking Carlos Torres, peppered gray beard neatly trimmed and custom made Italian suit adorned.

The man's eyes go wide, not expecting the object of his disdain to be answering the door this early in the morning.

"Can I help you?" Arizona asks, so not in the mood for customaries.

"I need to speak with Calliope." He states firmly, not stooping to ask anything from this woman, only demanding.

"She's not here." Robbins answers.

"Tell me where she is." Carlos says, his eyes running up and down the haggard looking woman in front of him. He guesses that if she took a shower, ran a comb through her tangled hair, and maybe put an article of clothing on that didn't have a stain or a hole, or both, that she'd probably be above average looking. But right now? Mr. Torres does not see what has drawn his daughter to this woman.

"Hell if I know." Arizona replies. "She left like… an hour ago, maybe. Went for a run. I don't know, she doesn't really talk to me anymore." The pitcher adds, leaving the door open and plopping back down in the couch.

Carlos battles with himself for a minute but decides that his needing to talk to his daughter outweighs the burden of being in the company of this woman who corrupted Callie. So with a deep sigh, he crosses the threshold of the apartment and closes the door behind him. He takes a seat as far away from the blonde as he can, crossing his arms and legs to close himself off completely.

They sit in silence, Arizona getting lost in her thoughts again while Carlos studies her. The sadness in those blue eyes is palpable, and he can't help but think that she has experience pain far greater than her years. More than once he is sure that he can see a tear threatening to fall, but then the blonde blinks it back and covers her anguish with a strong face.

The pitcher is the first one to break the silence. "Can I ask you something?"

"We're not going to take about Calliope, we're not going to do that." Carlos answers firmly.

Arizona shakes her head, her eyes remaining glued to the far wall. "Do you… do you think it's possible to meet the right person at the wrong time?" She tips her head to the side and catches the hard glare coming from her captain's father. "Like, have you ever thought that… that 'if I met them a year ago or… or a year _from_ now then… then we'd be perfect.' …Do you think that's possible? I mean, everyone says that the right person comes at the right time, that… that if it's meant to be, you'll know. But isn't it possible that everyone is wrong?"

But all she gets in return is icy silence. Silence that stretches long past the point of comfortableness.

Just when Arizona is sure she is going to freeze to death, the apartment door opens and in walks a very sweaty Callie Torres. Music is blasting in her ears and her heart is racing after a long and hard run. When she chances a look over to where the blonde was stationed when she left, Callie nearly jumps when she sees her father sitting there.

Ripping the bud from her ears, she stammers "W-what, what are you doing here? With her?" Arizona perks up, this being the first time Callie has even acknowledged her existence since the nasty argument last night.

"We need to talk, Calliope." Carlos answers firmly, standing from his seat to be on the same level as his daughter.

Blue eyes flick between the two Torres's, and Arizona slowly gets to her feet. "I'll just… give you some privacy." Grabbing her laptop, the blonde shuffles over to her shared bedroom, walking closer to Callie than necessary. She pleads for the Latina to make eye contact, but all her catcher does is avert her gaze to the far wall.

The soft click of the bedroom door closing and locking tells Callie that she is alone with her father. "What are you doing here?" She asks immediately.

"We need to –" Carlos restates.

"Talk." Callie cuts him off. "We already talked yesterday, Daddy. You said what you had to say then."

"We… we both said things we didn't mean, Calliope." Her father tries, his tone softening as he remembers how hurt his daughter looked during their argument. "All I want is the best for you, why can't you see that?"

"You want what you _think_ is best for me." The captain spits back. "And when I don't want the same, you throw me away. Well guess what, Daddy? This is who I am! Ok? I play softball, I date women, and I don't want to take over your company. Why can't you just accept that?"

"You don't know what you're saying, mija." Carlos replies, his heart breaking because he is afraid for his daughter. "Please, just come home with me and we'll get you help."

"Help?" Callie sneers. "What kind of _help_, Daddy? What? You going to drag me to Father Kevin? Make me attend church until the gay is pounded out of me?"

"Calliope Torres, do not take the tone with me." The man growls, quickly losing patience. "I have been understanding up until now but I will not allow you to bring shame to this family by going down a path that is that of a sinner." Callie just stands in front of her father, staring daggers into the man she used to idolize. "Your mother is heartbroken over this, and our family is mourning. …Come home, let us help you."

"No." The catcher whispers. Taking slow steps backwards, she says "You can't pray away the gay."

"I am your father!" Carlos shouts, that vein in his forehead now prominently on display. "You will do as I-"

"You can't pray away the gay!" Callie shouts back, then slams her bedroom door shut and locking her father out of her life for good.

The man storms toward his daughter's room, intent on pulling Callie out of there by her feet if he needs to, and tries to open the door. His strong hands can't push it open so he starts pounding on the door. "Open the door, Calliope. This is not a discussion, you are coming home with me."

By now both Teddy and Addison have awaken to the chaos, and Arizona has heard every word. The pitcher glances to her team mate across the room, sitting confusedly in her bed and wondering what the hell is going on. Robbins tells herself repeatedly it's not her fight, that it's Callie's father and Callie's problem, but when Carlos starts to pound on the other bedroom door, Arizona is on her feet in a flash.

Nearly ripping her own bedroom door off its hinges, Arizona barks "Hey!" One last solid pound hit's Torres's and Montgomery's door before Carlos turns, his face all red, and stares at the blonde. "I think it's time for you to go." She says.

"This is none of your concern." Mr. Torres growls back, tugging his suit back into place.

"When you threaten my team with violence, it is." Arizona replies, sounding much more confident than she feels. "So either leave now, or I'll call security and you will be escorted from the complex. Your choice." He stares at the blonde, studying her. After decades of being a business man, he has acquired the skill of reading people, finding their weaknesses and flaws. But all he sees in the pitcher is strength.

Carlos takes slow, calculated steps toward Robbins, and away from his daughter's room. Any doubt or pain that was present in those blue eyes earlier has now be replaced with conviction and determination. A sense of protectiveness leaks from this woman, and the man isn't sure if it's for Callie or for Arizona's team in general, but the intensity of her glare is jarring.

With one last look at the locked door behind him, Mr. Torres stops right in front of the pitcher, using the his slight height advantage to make Arizona look up at him. "I can make your life hell." He whispers low enough that Teddy can't hear from where she is peeking out from their bedroom.

A single, sarcastic chuckle falls from pink lips and Arizona replies "Hell would actually be a step up right now, so… bring it." Of all the comebacks he's heard during his reign as top dog of his business, he's never heard that. Slightly flustered from that unexpected response, dark eyes hold blue for another tension filled second and then the man is gone.

Arizona waits, her gaze glued to the door Carlos just walked out, half expecting him to come storming back in. But he doesn't. When the click of another door opening greets her ears, the blonde turns to find Callie's and Addison's door cracked open, her catcher standing there and staring at her.

"Thanks." Callie murmurs, not knowing what else to say. All Arizona can offer is a weak smile, and then the door closes again as Torres builds back up that wall around her heart.

* * *

It is apparent that the stakes are increasing exponentially as USA and Japan go head to head for the second time during these Olympic Games. The crowd is buzzing and each team can taste victory on their tongues. They are getting so close. So close to that finish line. Years and years, even decades for some, have been spent working towards this goal, and now it's right there in front of them.

This is one of the most physical games of the competition yet, and no one is calling fouls. They play hard, they push each other to play harder. When the Japanese shove someone out of the way of the baseline, USA retaliates by bringing down of the other team's players down during a slide. When Lucy, starting pitcher, accidentally clips one of the batters, Japan hits right back. Neither team wants to give in or show that they can't handle the heat. So they just crank it up a notch in return.

It's only the fourth inning, but both teams feel like they are running a marathon. Arizona has been benched by her coaches because they don't want her to aggravate her injury, even though she swears it is just a flesh wound. Sloan decided to shake up the game plan by putting in Lucy to start, leaving Arizona to come in as a relief pitcher. It's a risk, but they have to do something different from the last time they faced Japan.

The Americans are only down by one and have settled into a good, steady tempo even though the Japanese are trying to knock them off balance. But Callie and Teddy are doing their job at keeping their teammates calm and focused, leading by example and taking charge on the field.

After a solid base hit by Erica Hahn, the blonde making it safely to first, Callie steps up to the plate. Dark eyes scan the situation, finding Yang on third and Hahn on first. She has the opportunity to tie up the score, all she has to do is put the ball into play and the speedy woman on third will be able to score. But with two outs, there is also a very good possibility of leaving that runner hanging, just like the previous two innings.

So with a deep, calming breath, Callie steps into the batter's box and gets set. Hoping to catch the Japanese on their heels, the Latina takes a hack at the first pitch she sees, sending it to shallow right field. Yang immediately takes off at a sprint, her lead off allowing her to be half way home by the time Callie is barely out of the batter's box.

The Japanese adjusted for the cleanup hitter of USA and had moved back, adding a precious second to the time it takes for the right outfielder to run up, grab the ball and fire to second. That second being the extra time a less than speedy Erica Hahn and Callie Torres need to get to their bags. The Latina makes it soundly, running through first and avoiding a play. But the right outfield turns her arm towards second, and Hahn knows that it'll be a close play.

Falling into a slide to avoid overrunning the bag, the blonde holds her breath and braces herself. US watches from the bench as their ex-captain, yet extremely talented teammate, makes a play that could be huge.

A red cleat slips between a Japanese shortstop's legs and Hahn smiles as she feels the bag hit the bottom of her foot. But she can't stop the fielder from lunging forward as she chases after the ball and attempting to apply a tag, their legs getting tangled in each other's along the way. The shortstop falls awkwardly on top of Erica, and the sound of a pop is muffled by the roar of the crowd watching.

"Safe!" The umpire calls, making both American fans and the American bench explode. The short stop rolls off the runner, angry that not only did USA score a tying run, but they didn't even get out of the inning.

Callie claps her gloved hands, getting a high five from Sloan who is the first base coach, and turns her attention to her teammate at second. But after five seconds, Erica doesn't get up. The roar of the crowd quickly falls quiet and turns serious. Alex and Jackson are racing out of the dugout as soon as the umpire calls them out.

Arizona climbs the few stairs, trying to get a better view of her downed teammate. She knows she's a player, and that this is the trainer's job. But she's a doctor, and helping the hurt and injured will always be her first instinct.

Those on the field end up taking a knee, everyone waiting on the news from the blonde riving in pain at second base. Erica isn't crying out, because Erica Hahn doesn't cry, but the pain is very evident on her face. Karev takes her through a range of tests, the catcher nodding or shaking her head in response. Minutes pass and finally the blonde stands, but not under her own power. The two medics support her weight and help her limp off the field to a strong applause.

Arizona is on her way to give her assistance when Webber shouts "Robbins, you good to run?"

Blue eyes snap to her coach and she replies "Uh, yes sir."

"You're in." The big man in charge commands before heading to the head umpire to make the sub. A grunt of pain makes the blonde turn and stare at Erica, other players looking on as Alex and Jackson tend to Hahn. But Arizona quickly shakes herself and grabs a helmet, then dashes out to take Erica's place at second.

Japan quickly gets the third out, Meredith Grey striking out and leaving Callie and Arizona on base. US takes the field, Arizona going in to short instead of Naomi, who shifts to third, putting Callie behind the plate. The game drags on, Lucy battling batter after batter as her teammates back her up.

In the fifth, Sloan pulls Fields from the mound and puts Arizona in, the chemistry between the newest addition and Callie not being anywhere near what he gets from Robbins and Torres. The score is still tied and the game is headed for the final innings of regulation play, and Robbins knows that she has to be on point.

"Ready to do this?" The blonde asks with a tense smile.

"Yep." Callie answers, placing the ball in her pitcher's glove. And that's the end of their conversation, their pep talk. Arizona sighs as she watches the Latina jog back behind the plate, but pushes all her thoughts of the woman out of her mind as soon as the next Japanese batter steps up.

The twinge in her knee, the battle wound from her victory over Russia yesterday, makes pitching uncomfortable, but Arizona pushes through. This is softball. Not a game for wussies or those with low thresholds for pain. You play with broken fingers and toes, with eyes swollen shut from foul tips, you play with raspberries bigger than most babies' heads. There is no room for pain. If it hurts, rub some dirt on it and shut up.

Inning after crucial inning passes, the game lasting past the usual seven innings. The score remains tied at the top of the 10th, and everyone is starting to get antsy. Both teams have another game to play tomorrow, and it's pretty much a given that USA and Japan will be in the finals, but neither team wants to take the hit and let the game end. So Arizona fights on the mound while her teammates make play after play. Callie leads her team from behind the plate, challenging any runner who dares to think they are faster than the Latina's arm.

In the eleventh inning, Mark approaches his pitcher who is taking advantage of USA's at bat by resting on the bench. "How you feeling, Blondie?"

"Good." Arizona answers. "Got plenty of juice left." It's partly true, but her shoulder is starting to throb and she can tell that her velocity is starting to dip.

The coach turns to his catcher and asks "She good? Or do I need to do some juggling."

Blue eyes meet brown and Arizona waits for Torres to throw her under the bus. Why wouldn't she? But Callie just shakes her head and says "She's good. We're good."

"Alright then." Mark replies, then gets back to the game going on in front of them.

"Thanks." Arizona whispers when it's only them again.

"I didn't do it for _you_, Arizona." Callie replies in an even tone. And that startles Arizona more than when the Latina was biting her head off. The complete lack of emotion in her catcher's voice makes the blonde think that Torres is actually through. Actually over her. And Arizona screwed it all up. "Fields has been subbed and you're our heat. You at your B level is better than King or Grey at their A level. Simple as that."

"It's not personal. It's business." The pitcher whispers, pulling back memories of that time during summer practice and their tour through the states where that was what she told herself to keep focused.

"Exactly." Torres states just as Teddy gets thrown out at first, signaling the end of the half inning. "Let's finish this."

* * *

Silence fills the dugout as Team USA sits in defeat… again. They were so close. _So _close. No, they were there! But then that last play happened, that play that gave Japan the second victory. It was a bad call. A horrible call. One that will be played and analyzed on every America news station and experts will be called where nine out of ten will say the USA got the short end of the stick.

Webber protested it, then Hunt, then Sloan. Finally Derek Shepard, arguably the calmest and most collected coach among them, started yelling at the umps. But the call wasn't overturned and Japan was given the win, and USA sits in defeat again.

Thirteen innings. That's how long USA battled their opponent, only to be tripped up at the end. They played solid. Their fielding was impeccable, their bats were hot, but it wasn't enough.

Webber tries to find something to say to his beaten team but comes up empty. What do you say after something like this? Life sucks, sometimes the wrong call is made. Smile and move on? No. That wouldn't make them feel better.

So instead, he claps his hands together to draw their eyes up to him and says "Curfew is 11. Get a good night's sleep, we got the Brits tomorrow."

Women break off after that, some heading off to do their own thing to get over the loss, some going to the cafeteria to eat their feelings, while others head to the training room to start recovering from the marathon of a game. Arizona doesn't say a word to anyone as she sulks past the rest of her teammates and fills a large tub with ice and freezing cold water. Her entire body aches and, for as much as she hates ice baths, she knows that it will numb her to the pain. Both physically and emotionally.

By the time Callie makes it to the training room, it is packed with both her team and the Japanese. They have to share the room, but there is a very clear divide between the two. On one side it is somber and quiet while the other is filled with laughing and cheerful talking by the winners.

Jackson sees Torres surveying the situation and says "All the tubs are filled up. You can wait but it will probably be twenty minutes or so until one opens up." Dark eyes roll, the prospect of waiting around not being what she had in mind. The younger man sees her displeasure and suggests "Robbins is in the middle of a bath, I'm sure she wouldn't mind sharing." Normally Callie wouldn't think twice about dipping her tired knees into one of her teammates baths, but… it's Arizona.

"Uhh…" She hums, but sees yet another woman take a spot in line for a bath and says "I'll just wrap them instead. It'll have to do."

* * *

The cold has seeped into her bones and every joint seems to grind as Arizona walks from the food bar over to where some of her teammates are seated. Ten minutes in a freezing cold bath has stemmed the throbbing in her shoulder and muscles, but she can tell tomorrow will be a rough day.

Pulling the seat out between Teddy and Addison, the blonde sits down and places her napkin on her lap. In an almost synchronized movement, both of her roommates stand from their seats and clear their trays.

Blue eyes roll and Arizona groans "Oh come on!" But all she gets is silence. That's all she's gotten from anyone in her room. Not only is Callie pissed off and pretending like Arizona doesn't exist, but now Addison and Teddy are giving her the biggest cold shoulder in recorded history. Apparently they weren't too happy with the fact that Robbins not only threw them under the bus when it came to outing every relationship going on within the team, but also using it against them when they were just trying to help the woman.

"Seriously?" The blonde sneers to the two retreating women. "What is this, high school?" But they are soon out of earshot.

"You have a gift." A voice says, pulling blue eyes to the blonde seated across from her. A crooked smile appears on Erica's face as she sits back and studies the pitcher. "That was very impressive. Can you teach me how to repel people like that?"

Robbins just rolls her eyes and pushes her tray away from her, her appetite suddenly gone. Trying to avoid an argument, she asks "How's your ankle?"

"Hurts like a mother." Hahn snaps before tossing back a handful of Tylenol. "And excuse my unpleasant attitude… I just learned that I probably lost my dream of competing in the finals." Erica adds, bile rising in her throat as she thinks about it. The trainers said her ankle isn't broken, but she can already tell just from the amount of pain she's in, along with the swelling, that there is very little hope that she will be able to play in the gold medal round in a couple of days, let alone their last semi-final game tomorrow.

"That sucks." Arizona replies genuinely. She can't image what Erica must be feeling like. To make it all this way just to be side lined by a stupid accident.

"Pssh, you're not sorry. Just gives you even more playing time." Hahn states matter of factly.

Arizona was actually trying to be nice, but with the whole Callie thing and now the Teddy and Addison thing, _on top _of losing again, the pitcher isn't in the mood to be playing nice. "Yeah well… karma is a dirty bitch. Maybe if you didn't squeal like a pig to the press, you'd be hauling your ass out on that field tomorrow."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Erica sneers, both blondes now on the defensive. "What 'press'?"

"Oh please…" Robbins sighs with a big eye roll. She spies an old copy of a US Today just down the table and quickly grabs it, pulling out the sports section before tossing it to the older woman across from her. "Inside sources? Seriously? Are you _that_ vindictive, Hahn? I mean, we _are_ on the same damn team afterall."

Erica quickly skims the article then replies "This wasn't me." But the look Arizona gives her tells the woman she's not buying it. "Look, I'd admit it if it was. But it wasn't. …Why would I when you have a nice bit of juicy gossip about me dangling in front of my eyes."

"Wait… Seriously?" Arizona asks, the fact that she caught Erica after a one night stand just a few nights ago coming back to her. "This wasn't you?"

"No." Hahn answers, tossing the paper to the side. "Though I would have said the exact same thing, and it doesn't take a detective to see something has already happened between the two of you." The injured woman adds with smirk.

"If it wasn't you, then… who?" The rookie muses, her mind racking through anyone associated with the team who might do this.

Erica watches the younger woman, taking a bit of pleasure in the fact that Arizona, the golden girl, the mighty one, has fallen from her pedestal. And not just with Callie, but with others on the team as well. After letting her think for a minute, Hahn says "For being a doctor, you're not too bright." Bright blue eyes snap to hers and Arizona silently asks for her to explain. "Can you think of anyone who might have a bit of a beef with you and Torres… besides me, that is."

Then it clicks. "Amelia." Arizona states, Erica's head slowly nodding up and down. "God… why didn't I see it before?" She asks herself.

Another silence falls between the two of them, the hustle of bustle of the thousands of fellow athletes and other Olympic support staff filling the very large chow hall. Today's game was an earlier one, giving USA even longer to stew about their loss, or other things, before night falls and they can close their eyes to sleep.

Arizona finally plucks up the courage and breaks the silence. "Can I ask you something, Erica?" Blue eyes just stare back at her, a slight hint of humor in the veteran's eyes. "What do you know about Callie's… family?"

"Depends what you want to know." Erica replies.

_Everything._ At least, that's what Arizona says to herself, but she shakes that from her mind and says "When her dad showed up, he said something about pulling his donation. I was just wondering what their family business was, what made is such a big deal."

"Wow, you _are_ unobservant." Hahn states in a very demeaning tone. "You didn't think it… interesting that nearly every hotel we stayed at on our tour had the 'Torres' logo on it?" Arizona's eyes narrow as she thinks back, and she admits that she, in fact, did not notice that.

Erica leans in, resting her arms on the table between them and says "Carlos Torres is the founder and CEO of Torres Luxuries. One of the largest and most prestigious hotel chains east of Chicago. And… Callie is his heir. One of them, at least. If I remember correctly, she has a sister-"

"Aria." Arizona adds, wanting the other woman to know that she's not completely ignorant when it comes to the Latina's history.

"Yeah well, Daddy Big Bucks wants Cal to take over one day since the sister is becoming some hot shot attorney somewhere in New York." Erica continues. Now some of the puzzle pieces are starting to fall into place, Arizona drawing on the tidbits Callie had dropped during their multiple conversations. Only now does the blonde realize how one sided those talks were, it was always about her… or softball. Never about Callie.

"He paid for her to go to school, though he didn't need to. She got a full ride for playing ball. Majored in Hotel Management, but started dabbling in the theater in her spare time." Hahn is now stuck in story mode and Arizona isn't about to cut her off if the woman is so willing to share. "She told me that she and her family have always sung, but it wasn't until college where she did it for real."

"Seriously? Calliope got on stage and sang?" Arizona asks, a big smile on her face as she pictures it. "Callie? As in… the same woman who freezes whenever the little red light on a camera turns on?"

Erica can't help but laugh along with the pitcher. "Yep. …She said it just feels like home up there on stage. Singing. Acting. …That, and in the kitchen. Damn that girl can cook." A pregnant pause passes, and Hahn shakes herself from past memories. She struggles to her feet and grabs the crutches next to her. "If you really want a show, go onto University of Miami's theater site and look up the 2005 production of Spamalot. It's not the best quality recording but… you might see a familiar face."

* * *

After a long one on one with Mark Sloan, Callie and the man going over the game plan now that Erica seems to be out of the game, the Latina comes back to her apartment to find articles of clothing flying out of Teddy's and Arizona's room. The next second a very angry looking Altman comes storming out of the room with a heap of Robbins' things and drops them on the living room couch before spinning on her heel and retreating.

The first baseman notices her roommate and smiles. "Hey Cal."

Eyebrows furrow in confusion and the catcher peeks into the room the dirty blonde just reentered, only to pull back the next second to avoid a thrown flip flop. "What the hell is going on?" Callie barks.

"We're changing up the rooming situation." Someone else answers and Callie looks up to see Addison coming out of their shared room with a packed bag slung over her shoulder.

"What?" Torres cries, a tank top smelling so much like Arizona obscuring her vision as it is tossed from the room. "Why are you kicking Arizona out?" She asks, ripping the shirt from her face.

"She's being a royal bitch." Teddy replies with pure venom. "And I don't want to share a room with her."

"So we're switching." Addison adds, slipping into her new bedroom and dropping her bag on the cleared out section of the room that use to be Robbins.

Callie quickly comes to the conclusion that all this means that Arizona will be rooming with her, and she's not ok with that.

"You two are really going to do this?" Torres asks in disbelief. "Teddy, come on! You're a captain, you're a leader. To let a simple argument upset you like this isn't a good example."

"Stones and glass houses, Torres." Altman replies, tossing a stray flip flop past her co-captain.

Callie's jaw goes slack in shock. "Two totally different things." The Latina states firmly, hers and Teddy's eyes remaining locked on each others. "Ok? So unless she slept with you and then threw you out, you have no right to say anything about it to me."

"Sounds an awful like Arizona, doesn't it?" Addison drawls and all her new roommate does is nod.

And almost as if speaking her name summons her, Arizona walks through the front door and finds a pile of her clothes and other possessions sitting in the middle of the living room.

"What the hell?!" She sneers, looking expectedly at Callie who just shrugs her shoulders. Blue eyes look into her bedroom to find Addison unpacking her stuff on Arizona's bed. "Teddy, what the hell is going on here? Why'd you toss my stuff?"

"Torres thought a slight room change would be for the best." Altman answers with a smile.

Arizona's gaze flicks to Callie's and the Latina immediately goes on the defensive. "I did not!" She says, holding up a finger to halt any questioning from her pitcher. Turning back to Teddy, she adds "Teddy, grow up, alright? Addison, you're not moving. Come on, pack your stuff."

"I'm not sleeping in the same room with her!" Teddy shouts, pointing an accusing finger at Arizona. "She can stay with you." Both Arizona's and Callie's gazes meet, and the blonde can see just how much her captain is not liking that idea.

Rolling her eyes, Arizona throws her hands up in defeat and says "Fine. I'll sleep in the living room. Whatever."

Callie watches as her pitcher turns and starts to collect her things, sorting out dirty from clean and trying to find some semblance of order after Altman trashed everything. She looks so defeated and hopeless that it starts to pick at Torres's walls. Those walls that she put up to keep her heart safeguarded from Arizona are the same walls that just can't seem to keep Arizona out.

Not believing she is actually considering it, Torres growls then bends down and picks up a handful of clothes. "You're not sleeping in the living room." She states firmly, leaving no room to argue. Without meeting Arizona's gaze, she turns and walks into her bedroom, dropping the clothes on the bed that use to be Addison's.

Arizona follows the Latina, not believing it either, and asks "Are you sure?"

"We've done it before." Callie answers as she sits on her bed and starts up her computer, all the while avoiding looking her pitcher in the eye.

Both women catch the double meaning and a blush brightens the captain's cheek before she clears her throat of the lump that has grown there and she quickly adds "Slept in the same room. We've done it before and survived. No different this time."

"Right." Arizona sighs, remembering all those nights in the hotel while on the road where she and Callie were supposedly at odds. But for some reason they spent more nights in the same bed than in separate beds. "It's not personal. It's business." She adds as she turns pleading blue eyes to the woman who has turned her life upside down and inside out.

* * *

The next morning Callie shuffles out of her bedroom, raven hair going in every direction and sleep still clouding her eyes, and finds a blonde in a very awkward position. She stops in her tracks and watches as Arizona moves gracefully from one yoga position to the next, trying not to drool over the way her pitcher's ass fills out those delicious stretchy yoga pants perfectly. Last night the two hardly said two words to one another but both were very aware of the heated tension between them. More than once Callie looked up from her laptop or book or iPod to find deep blue eyes staring back at her.

Arizona can feel those same rich eyes she was trying to catch last night on her right now, and after completing a move she says "You could join me if you wanted. Would probably help you relax a bit."

"I do my own kind of yoga." Callie groans as she tries to rub the crust from her eyes. When Arizona peeks over her shoulder in interest the captain explains. "It's called shaving." A giggle slips from the blonde's lips before she can contain it, and it makes Callie smile.

The Latina plods into the bathroom and starts to brush her teeth, one eye staying on the pitcher in the mirror as Arizona continues her workout. Callie can't help but think how relaxed and at ease Robbins is, almost like whatever has been going on between them hasn't happened at all. Maybe that's how she wants it to be, maybe it's the easiest thing. Callie wishes she could forget, forget what it was like being with Arizona, even if it was just for the short amount of time they actually were together. But that night was the best night Callie has ever had and it makes her heart ache when she thinks that it might not ever happen again.

Back out in the living room, Arizona hums a tune that she just heard last night and it catches Callie's attention. She knows that tune, but she just can't seem to place it.

"You're awfully cheerful considering the fact we lost yesterday." Callie groans.

"We didn't lose." Arizona replies, taking a clean white towel and dabbing at the sweat on her brow. "We didn't win, but we didn't lose. It was a bad call. Really bad. But what's done is done."

Blue eyes lock with brown and a tense pause lapses. "Right." Callie sighs, her gaze falling to the floor. "What's done is done." She turns back to her bedroom but stops at the threshold and looks back at the blonde watching her. "Look, Arizona… I said some harsh things and-"

She doesn't get an opportunity to finish her sentence because Arizona closes the short distance between them and kisses her. It catches Callie off guard and the Latina doesn't respond right away which prompts the blonde to pull away.

"Sorry." Arizona whispers, suddenly thinking that her split second decision was wrong. "I-I'm sorry, I just-"

"Shut up." Callie tells her as a strong hand takes hold of the base of Arizona's neck and pulls her back into another kiss. And suddenly all that pain and heaviness is lifted from their chests. Even though neither of their lungs are functioning, they both take a breath that they had been holding for over a day.

Their kiss is strong and passionate, telling the other how much they have missed it and how strongly they feel. Arizona pushes Callie into the bedroom before there is a chance of a perfectly timed entrance by either Teddy or Addison breaks them apart.

As soon as the blonde crosses the threshold, the Latina closes the door and pushes the blonde against it, their lips never breaking their kiss.

But Callie pulls away before things can get too far, and as she looks upon the flushed face of her pitcher she finds dark blue eyes staring back up at her. "What does this mean?" She asks in a breathless voice.

Arizona licks her lips and she can still taste Callie on them, and the blonde says "I… I don't know." She watches as the Latina actually deflates, her shoulders slumping and sadness immediately weighing across her features.

Torres pulls away but Arizona grips her catcher's shirt and keeps her still. "No!" Robbins pleads. "That's… That's not what I meant. I meant, I don't know what it means. But I know what I want. I want you, Calliope." Dark brown eyes look deep into Arizona's and Callie finds nothing but truth in her words. "And I don't know what that means, but I know that… that I want it. Whatever it means."

The smile that lights up Callie's face makes Arizona's breath hitch and her voice quiver. "I don't know what's going to happen. All I know is that every time I look at you, I feel better. And that… honestly, that scares the crap out of me. But my brother used to say 'if it scares you, it might be a good thing to try.' So… I'm here, Calliope. I'm back. I'm… I'm catching you. …If you still want me to."

Words fail the normally assured Callie Torres. After all that has happened in the last few days, her world being turned on its head after the picture leak and her father taking her entire world away from her, here stands Arizona… asking Callie for another chance. Asking her if she will open herself up again, allowing Arizona inside and opening herself up to be hurt again. It's hard to trust after being cut off at the knees, but Callie Torres doesn't want it to be easy. She just wants it to be worth it.


	28. Chapter 28

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: Sorry! Sorry! I apologize for the long wait. Hopefully this chapter will make up for it. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 28

"Whose house?!"

"Our house!"

"Whose house?!"

"OUR HOUSE!"

"USA on three. One, two, three." Callie yells over the roar of the stadium.

"USA!" Her team shouts, the next second a cooler of Gatorade is getting dumped over Coach Webber's head. If it isn't obvious to anyone looking on, USA just dominated the British in their last semi-final game and clenched a spot in the gold medal round.

A newscaster is able to catch the excited Callie Torres as she and her team file off the field. "Callie, tell us what your team is feeling right now."

"We're thrilled. We… we're just riding high right now. I mean, we knew we would make it into the finals, you can't not think that going in to these sort of competitions but to finally make it is like… like a weight has been lifted." Callie replies, the surge of adrenaline pushing away her usual stage fright.

"And any thoughts about going into the Gold Medal round down two games to the Japanese?" The female reporter asks.

"You know… it wasn't two losses. It was one loss and one bad call but… you know, we're just going to go in with our game faces on and take care of business. You know? Leave no doubt and just play our game without fear." Torres replies, smiling and waving to the fans and her teammates passing by her. "We're counting on Japan bringing their A game, and we're going to bring ours."

"How is USA coping with the injury of Erica Hahn? She's been one of the top performers in the batter's box during these Games as well as a strong third base man. Does the team feel that loss?"

"Hahn is an ace player and her injury has affected us but, you know, we're all on this team because we are the best. Naomi Campbell is a solid third, and there's a whole list of second strings that can handle the position. Addison Montgomery, Lexie Grey, Arizona Robbins… and that's just to name a few." The Latina replies.

The interviewer catches an opening and goes with it. "Speaking of Arizona Robbins, is it true that the two of you are stuck in a lover's quarrel? If so, how has it impacted your chemistry on the field? What do your coaches and team mates think about the relationship?"

This question quickly sobers Callie up and a knot forms in her stomach. "You know… It's just… Arizona is my teammate and my friend. And… even if we were something else besides that, it's no one's business besides ours. We're both professional enough to not let our off-field relationship hamper our on-field relationship and… and that's all our team needs to worry about. Arizona and I, you know, we take care of business. She gets up there on the mound and does what she needs to do, and the same goes for me behind the plate. Our team and our performance on the field is always our priority. …Anything else is… our own business."

This vague response is not what the interviewer was hoping for but when she tries to rope the Latina back into the discussion, Callie has already moved on to continue her celebration with her team.

* * *

"Ow, damn it Robbins!" Erica whines, pulling her bum ankle away from the doctor after Arizona twisted it a bit too far.

"Man up, Hahn." Arizona growls, taking hold of the swollen joint and pulling back in front of her.

It's the night of USA's victory over Great Britain and the rest of their team is out celebrating somewhere but Arizona and Erica are holed up in Robbins room as the surgeon attempts to get a better look at her teammate's injury. Hahn had to swallow a very large pill to get over her dislike of her fellow blonde, but if there is any chance of Arizona helping her so that she can compete in the Gold Medal round, Erica will do whatever she has to. Even if that means sucking up to the one person on the team she dislikes the most.

Icy blue eyes scan her teammates room while deft fingers examine her ankle. "So… you two still in that honeymoon phase?" Erica sneers.

A sarcastic chuckle falls from pink lips and Arizona replies "I don't think we've ever been in that phase. It went from flirting to hiding, back to flirting, a couple of kisses, then neither of us being able to stand the other. …Now we're just, I don't know. At least we're talking again." Arizona toys at the third base man's ankle, and after one last hiss of pain from Erica, Arizona removes her gloves with a snap. "Without an MRI I'm just guessing, but it feels like just a sprain. I don't really have any miracle advice, just what Karev and Avery told you. Ice and elevate. Stay off it. That's about all you can do."

Erica slowly extricates her foot from Arizona's lap and places it back on the ground. "Will I be able to play?" She tries not to sound like she's pleading or begging, but Hahn has been working towards this for years. Now it's so close and she hates that she'll miss it just because of a stupid sprained ankle.

"I don't know." Arizona answers quietly. "Probably not…" She watches as her teammate's shoulders slump and Robbins quickly looks for a way to give Erica hope again. "But you never know. Ice it, elevate it, baby it all night and all day tomorrow. …Maybe by the time we play Japan in two days you'll be able to put weight on it."

"Right." Erica sneers, struggling to get up on her feet and getting steadied on her crutches. "I'll be holding my breath." She adds, then starts to limp out of the bedroom.

Just as she's about to cross the threshold a smiling and slightly intoxicated Callie Torres appears. "Erica!" The Latina exclaims, clapping her teammate soundly on her shoulder. "What are you doing here?" Dark, unfocused eyes flick between the ex-captain and her pitcher still sitting on her bed. An image forms in her mind and Callie starts to giggle. "Ohhhh… I get it." She tries to wink theatrically but only manages to blink both eyes at the same time.

"Looks like Yang's drinks were a little on the strong side." Erica muses, then continues to limp out of the couples bedroom while muttering something along the lines of 'sticking with men' and 'women are too messy'.

Once their apartment door closes behind the intruder, Callie turns back to see Arizona watching her in amusement. The Latina tries to sexily saunter towards the blonde but gets tripped up by a stray flip flop which sends her sailing to the ground.

"Oh god!" Arizona gasps, rushing to the aid of the downed player. But as she kneels next to her catcher brown eyes turn up to look into blue and Callie starts to laugh her ass off. "Wow, you are _so _drunk." The blonde states while laughing along with the intoxicated woman rolling around on the floor.

"I tripped!" Callie announces like it's the funniest thing ever. "I tripped over a flip flop." She holds the offending item up for Arizona to see, which only makes the Latina laugh even harder.

"Yeah, you sure did." Arizona agrees with the woman.

Their gazes lock for a second and all laughter fades from the room, a seriousness now filling the air. "Why weren't you at the party?" Callie asks softly, not even attempting to get up from her position on the floor.

"Not really my style." Arizona answers off handedly, then snakes an arm around the Latina's back and tries to stand, but Callie isn't helping her at all.

"I missed you there. …That's why I left." Torres states. "I came to find you."

"Well, you found me." Robbins replies with a smile. "Now… wanna get off the floor?"

"No." Callie breathes out, then reaches up through draping blonde hair to grasp the base of Arizona's neck and pulls her down for a kiss.

It's soft and tender, and Arizona can still taste the alcohol on Callie's tongue. Just this morning did they make up again after Arizona said she wanted to catch Callie, if the Latina still wanted her to catch her. They didn't talk much after the kiss, what with a very important game nipping at their heels, but throughout the day they kept stealing glances and smiles. Arizona isn't dense, she knows that this is far from being happily ever after and that there is still a great deal she needs to do and learn to make it up to Callie, but she's ready to start. …Right after this kiss.

When tanned hands become bolder and urge the blonde closer, Arizona supporting her weight over the Latina but her arms starting to shake, she whispers "You're drunk."

"No." Callie replies, her lips leaving a slick trail down a fair neck. "I'm not. I'm just clumsy."

She knows she shouldn't, that it's too soon and that they need to talk first, but Arizona can't help but moan when warm hands slip underneath her shirt and fingernails rake down her back. Their mouths swallow up the others whimpers and groans, their tongues starting an intricate dance only they know the rhythm to. But when the apartment door opens, Arizona pulls away in a flash, jumping to her feet and wiping her lips from the moisture collected there.

"Arizona? You in here?" A high pitched voice calls from the living room.

Arizona sends the Latina a tight smile before slipping through the bedroom door and shutting it behind her. "Yeah, what's going-" But her question is no longer necessary because she can see what's going on. There, standing in her living room, is Lexie Grey with a bloodied tissue held against her nose while April Kepner stands at arm's length.

"What happened?" Arizona asks as she immediately slips back into doctor mode.

"Yang's got a bony elbow." Lexie replies, her words slurring a little more than Robbins would have liked.

"They were dancing and Cristina just…" April mimics some sort of elbow shot, then points to her nose. "And Lexie just exploded. I heard a pop too, definitely a pop."

Arizona takes her friends head in her hands and turns the younger woman's face towards the light. "Does it hurt?" She asks.

"I don't feel a thing." Lexie answers with a huge smile, some mix of tequila and rum rolling off her breath that makes Arizona gag.

"Shocking." Robbins murmurs, then lightly presses around the area of the injured nose. Despite Lexie's urgings, the woman winces from pain after a few short seconds. "Well, it's broken." Arizona surmises after her quick examination. "I can pop it back in place but it's going to hurt."

"Just do it." Grey groans, the ache of her injury slowly overcoming the numbness from the alcohol coursing through her veins.

"Ok. Deep breath." Arizona says, taking a firm hold of the woman's chin in one hand while using her thumb and forefinger to grip the nose. "On three, ok? One… Tw-" With a quick flick of her fingers the bones move back into place.

"AH!" Lexie yelps, eyes instantly watering. "You said on three!" She cries, her hand coming up to protect her nose from any other injury.

"Hurts less if you don't expect it." Arizona offers with a smile then grabs hold of woman's face again to examine her work. "Put some ice on it. Twenty minutes every hour or you'll have a very nasty bruise. And no more alcohol."

Once April has escorted a still buzzed, bleeding, and crying Lexie Grey back out of the apartment Arizona shuts the door behind them and locks it. The blonde shuffles back to her bedroom and finds that Callie has peeled herself off the floor and has collapsed in the nearest bed. …Which just so happens to be Arizona's.

It's not too late in the evening, but USA couldn't wait to start partying which is why Callie is nearly knocked out at just after 9 o'clock. They have tomorrow off to prepare for the gold medal match the following day, so no one is really worried about being hung over on game day.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, Arizona brushes back raven hair from Callie's face, uncovering rich chocolate eyes below. "How you feeling?"

"Fine." Callie sighs, but Arizona doesn't believe her.

The pitcher slips off her shoes and lies down next to the Latina, both on their sides and facing each other but not really touching.

"Really?" The blonde whispers, blue eyes staring right into Torres's heart and soul.

Callie chews on her lip and thinks back through the last few days. The hurt and pain coming from the picture, the way it felt when Arizona walked away from her, what her father said to her, and watching him walk out of her life. It all comes back to her in one big, huge, ground shaking sucker punch and it leaves her breathless.

A tear springs from her eye and all Callie can do is reply with a breathless, "No." More tears follow the first, blazing a trail down caramel skin and pooling on the fresh pillow underneath her. She doesn't fight it when Arizona pulls her closer to the blonde, and when she nestles into the crook of the blonde's neck, it feels like Callie is coming home.

* * *

The slamming of a door is what pushes Callie Torres out of her deep sleep, both she and Arizona jumping at the sound. It's quickly followed by the sound of their roommates arguing, Addison harassing Teddy about something before the apartment door quickly opens again, slamming shut just a second later. And within five seconds silence fills the apartment again.

Confused if all this actually happened of if she just hallucinated it, Callie cracks open her brown eyes only to shrink away when the bright morning sun burns her corneas. The Latina burrows back into her pillow, hiding her sensitive eyes from the cruel light while at the same time trying to ignore the pounding in her head.

An arm wraps around Callie tighter, her pillow actually being Arizona's shoulder, and the blonde just chuckles.

"What?" Callie groans, her voice sounding like nails on a chalkboard and her tongue feeling like sandpaper.

"Never pegged you for a drooler." Arizona replies with a giggle.

"I don't drool." Torres defends herself, pulling away from the warmth of her pitchers body to find a wet spot spreading down the blonde's chest, making Arizona laugh even more. "Shut up." The captain groans, burying her head back into her cocoon while moaning "My head hurts."

"Probably your concussion from tripping over my flip flop last night." The blonde jokes then wiggles her way out from under the Latina. Once free Arizona sits on the edge of the mattress and stretches her tired muscles, silently chastising herself for sleeping two to a twin yet again. Though… when it's Calliope Torres you're sharing a bed with, the closer the better.

When Arizona twists her head, a series of loud pops erupting in the air as the pitcher's neck cracks, Callie groans in disgust. "God, I hate it when you do that." With the warmth of the blonde missing, Torres pulls the unused sheets up over her still clothed body while Arizona plods out to the tiny kitchenette and grabs a bottle of Gatorade along with a couple aspirin.

Back in the bedroom, she retakes her seat on the edge of the bed and cracks open the beverage. "Alright Boss, I got the magic hangover cure for ya."

Callie sits up, her hair all a mess and still dressed in her clothes from last night, and groans. "Blue? Didn't we have any orange or red?" Blue eyes just stare at her and the Latina weakly takes the drink, throwing back the pills and swallowing them down. "They teach you this cure in med school?" She asks after sucking down about half of the blue liquid.

A chuckle falls from the blonde's lips and Arizona replies "_In_ med school? No. But going to med school for four years, you learn some tricks. Gatorade and aspirin is second only to a banana bag. But… I'm kind of running low on supplies here."

"Ahh." Torres sighs, sipping on her drink periodically as an awkward silence falls between them. The Latina finds it strange that it's always one of two ways. Either they are on fire and can barely pull away from one another, or they are in complete and utter awkwardness. It's like there's no middle ground for them, at least not yet.

Clearing her throat and keeping her eyes trained on the blanket beneath her, Arizona asks "Webber got anything planned for us today?"

"Umm, just a light practice later on. Nothing heavy, just to keep us loose and all." Callie answers softly. "Why?"

"No reason, just wondered." The blonde replies. A growl of a hungry stomach pulls both sets of eyes to the pitchers midsection, and a giggle slips from Arizona's lips. "Guess I'm hungry."

Downing the last of her hangover cure, Callie stands and sheds the top from yesterday to reveal a very thin tank top, and she doesn't miss the way blue eyes widen at the sight. "Give me ten minutes to freshen up and wash the tequila from my pores and then we can go get some breakfast."

Arizona smiles and rests back against the wall, her dimples popping at the thought of spending even more time with this mysterious and very beautiful woman. "Awesome."

* * *

Within 25 minutes both Callie and Arizona have joined some of the other players from the team at their usual table in the chow hall. The Olympic schedule being what it is, which is hectic and jam packed, there is always a crowd circulating through the lines and around the tables. And because today is an off day for the US Softball team, some have opted for sleeping in rather than pushing through the crowds of people to get to mediocre cafeteria food.

Grabbing one of the two seats side by side, Callie scans the faces of her teammates, taking a mental roll call, but stops when she sees Lexie Grey. "Woah! What the hell happened to you?" She asks, the band aid taped over the player's nose doing little to hide the dark bruise surrounding it.

"Tequila is what happened to me." Lexie groans, the pressure and movement of talking making the ache in her face increase tenfold. Turning her sad eyes to the only doctor she knows, she pleads "Can you give me something for the pain? Please, I'm dying here."

Arizona smiles her soft, reassuring smile that has been proven to work on the sickest and most hurting of pediatric patients. "Have you taken any aspirin for it yet?"

"Yes! Like four an hour ago." Lexie cries. "But it's not helping."

"Try some ice, and then another couple of aspirin in a few hours." Arizona tells her. "But I can't prescribe you anything else, not if you want to be able to compete and pass the drug tests. Besides, I don't know if my scripts would actually be filled here since I'm not licensed to practice in England."

"Damn it." The younger Grey groans.

"Why don't you go see Mark? I'm sure he'd kiss it and make it feel all better." Charlotte King quips, resulting in a quick middle finger from Lexie before she stands and leaves the table. "Baby." The southern blonde murmurs once her teammate is gone. "I don't know why she gets all defensive. It's out in the open now! Hell, if I was banging Sloan I'd shout it from the roof top."

"Maybe it's because she _didn't_ want it out in the open." Teddy drawls, her glare turning towards her friend across from her. "Maybe some people just like to keep their private lives private. What do you think, Arizona?"

Blue eyes roll in their socket and Arizona has to physically bite her tongue to keep from snapping back at her friend. Teddy and Addison still haven't let up and even though it kind of worked out for Robbins, she did get to room with Callie which led to them… whatever they are right now, she still doesn't like the fact that two of her closest friends on the team hate her guts right now.

Callie doesn't miss this interchange and asks "Did I miss something?"

"No." Arizona quickly replies but Addison immediately talks over her.

"She just called Teddy and I whores." The redhead states pointedly.

"I did not!" The blonde sneers.

"Really? So… when you said that Teddy was opening her legs for Hunt even though he didn't care for her… what were you _trying _to infer." Montgomery rebuttals.

"Hey!" Teddy yelps, her cheeks blushing from all the extra eyes and ears on them right now.

"I was pissed off, alright!" Arizona shouts, drawing the attention of the few tables surrounding them, as well as the handful of their teammates eating right next to them. "I get mean when I'm pissed off, and I'm sorry for taking it out on you and Addison, ok? Is that what you want to hear from me? Fine. I'm sorry."

Teddy and Addison catch each other's eyes and share a look like they are having a silent conversation before both turn their attention back to the blonde.

"It's a start." Teddy states flatly, then stands and clears her tray, the redhead right behind her.

Arizona slinks down in her chair and massages at her temples, silently cursing herself and her mouth. Catching the gaze of deep brown eyes, she groans "It's going to be a looonnnngggg freaking day."

* * *

"Alright ladies, that's enough for the day! Circle up!" Webber calls, all of his players jogging slowly towards him after the light practice they just had. It wasn't anything too stressful but just enough to keep them sharp and loosened up. Tomorrow is the big day and the big man wouldn't admit it to anymore, but he has the biggest case of nerves in his life.

"How you all feeling?" Richard asks when his girls have fallen into a circle around him, his three fellow coaches standing behind him.

The man gets a round of hoots and hollers, everyone ready to end this long road tomorrow.

"Great. Great." He replies with a smile, then pulls his hands behind his back and takes on a pose of a leader. "Now, tomorrow is a big day. I shouldn't have to tell you that. But I will. …Tomorrow is the day you ladies have been dreaming about for years. Some since college, or high school. …Some even longer." Heads nod in agreement with their coach as each player recalls her trip to this very spot right now. "And there's a lot of talk out there. Some are saying that we don't have it in us. That… we'll trip up at the finish line. But that's not going to happen, you know how I know?" Silence greets his ears, his team fully wrapped up in the man's speech.

"Because you ladies play with your hearts. You play with passion. A passion far greater than I've ever seen before. …Yes, we may be going into this game two games down to Japan, but that only adds fuel to the fire. When I look around this group gathered here… I see champions." A chill hits each and every woman, goose bumps arising from flesh that moments ago were hot and sweaty. "So, enjoy your night. Eat, sleep. Do whatever it is you do to prepare yourselves. Because tomorrow? Ahh, tomorrow you become champions."

The empty air is quickly filled with hoots and hollers, all the players agreeing with what their head coach has said. Callie calls them all into a circle and with as much enthusiasm as they can muster, they send off their practice with a loud "USA".

After the usual hustle and bustle of the team getting all their equipment locked away and achy joints iced, Arizona and Callie find themselves at the back of the herd again. The Latina's iced knees prevent her from walking too fast and the blonde isn't in any hurry to get anywhere anyways. Normally they would have an interview to get to right now, at least Callie if not Arizona as well, but Webber insisted that both of the girls skip this one. Torres isn't sure if that was a gift or some sort of punishment, and as she thinks back through the multiple on air interviews she's done, she can't think of an occasion that made her or the team look bad. …Besides the whole picture business that is.

Almost as if Robbins can sense that her catcher is thinking too hard, Arizona cheerfully asks, "What you got planned for the rest of the night?"

"Umm… nothing, really. I should really look over the game footage from our last two games with Japan." Torres replies, already disliking her plan but she doesn't want to assume anything that would have to do with her roommate. "You?"

"I got nothing." Arizona answers, balling her hands into the pocket of her hoodie to keep herself from reaching over and grabbing Callie's. She wants to so bad but… after all she's done to the woman, Arizona doesn't feel like she has that right. Not yet.

"Maybe… I don't know, grovel to Addison and Teddy. See if I can't smooth everything over before tomorrow." The blonde adds after they walk for another hundred feet or so. "I'd rather not step out on that field tomorrow with half the infield staring daggers at my back."

Callie smiles and edges closer to her pitcher until they are side by side, then slips an arm through Arizona's and says "How about after your groveling we go and grab a late lunch somewhere in downtown London."

"You and me, we?" Arizona asks with a smile.

"Yep." Callie answers, her own mega-watt grin enveloping her face as her dark eyes catch those dimples on display. "You game?"

Robbins is sure her face is about to split wide open from how hard she is smiling, and she has to laugh at herself because of how nervous and fluttery this woman makes her feel. Arizona isn't used to being on her toes like this, no one has ever made her feel like this. Like she is some sort of school girl pining over the quarterback, or the head cheerleader in Arizona's case. But Callie does.

So with a wink, Arizona answers "Definitely game."

* * *

"So what you feel like?" Arizona asks as she and Callie make their way from Olympic Village and move deeper and deeper into the heart of London. It's early afternoon and after a quick shower and change, the two are looking forward to a couple hours of unwinding before resetting in preparation for tomorrow.

"Nothing too heavy. I'm squatting all day tomorrow." Torres replies, the ache in her knees a constant reminder that Erica Hahn is no longer splitting the catching duties, meaning that Callie is behind the plate for every out, of every single inning, in every single game.

"I'm sure we'd work it all off before then." Arizona says nonchalantly, making the Latina look over at her and raise a questioning eyebrow in a 'really?' gesture. Blue eyes suddenly spark with horror and the blonde starts to babble. "No! I-I… No, that came out wrong. I didn't mean-"

A deep chuckle rattles from deep within the captains chest and Callie smiles at the sight of Arizona blushing rather badly so she decides to spare the blonde. Stepping in front of the shorter woman, Callie fists the material of her sweatshirt and purrs "I'm sure we would, too." Plump lips lean in and caress pink, her tongue sneaking out and teasing for permission to enter Arizona's mouth.

When Arizona tries to deepen the kiss Callie pulls away, wanting to leave the woman wanting more, and says "You're cute when you get flustered."

After another half hour of walking around and bickering about where to eat, Callie and Arizona end up at another little café that looks right out onto a small and not too populated strip of London road. Torres keeps having the urge to look over her shoulder in search of someone hidden behind a car or street lamp, a camera at the ready. After the last blind side, she doesn't want to be surprised again. But now… it's out. The whole world knows that she and Arizona were touring London, tasting local delicacies… and other things. Still, once bitten, twice shy.

"So…" Callie sighs once their meals have been ordered and now all there is to do is wait.

"So…" The blonde parrots, her fingers working at destroying the paper napkin in her lap from her nerves. She knows that they have yet to really 'talk', and she can feel it coming. And she doesn't know what she's going to say.

Their gazes find each others and a beat of silence passes before Callie lets out a loud bark of laughter and the ridiculousness of their situation. "This is so screwed up." The Latina groans, rubbing at the faint headache she's had since waking up this morning. "God, when did this get so difficult?"

Arizona smiles weakly and drops her eyes to the table. "I don't know… Probably right around the time I pinned on the number 89 to my shirt and tried out."

"Yeah, I'd have to agree with you." The captain says, making blue eyes snap back up in shock. But when Arizona sees the smile on Callie's face she knows her catcher was only playing.

"You're mean." The surgeon grumbles, feigning hurt which only makes Callie smile wider.

"If we were on the playground I'd be pulling your pigtails right about now." Torres states, an image of a young Arizona with long, blonde hair and dimples running around on a playground. She doesn't know why she thought of it, and it quite frankly startles her, so she takes a sip of her drink to try and wash it away.

"Well, I grew up with the name Arizona, I know how to fight dirty." The blonde replies playfully. "Took down more than my fair share of snot covered and pig tail pulling boys in my day."

"I don't doubt it." Callie states softly. "So when did Battleship start bailing on things?"

In an instant the mood shifts, blue eyes darkening in sadness. She knew it was coming, but that doesn't mean she was prepared.

Brushing a lock of blonde hair out of her face, Arizona takes a deep breath and says "I… I don't know. I know it's not right to blame all of this on my brother, it's not his fault. But… I just stopped trying to fight it all. It was easier to just leave than… than to face it, you know?"

"And with me? What… what makes you run?" Callie asks, knowing that there are probably a dozen ways to ask this question more gently, but right now she just wants answers. She's had enough of waiting around and letting Arizona come around when she's ready.

"Everything." The blonde answers in a whisper. "You scare me, Calliope. The way you make me feel when you're around… The way you make me feel when you're _not _around… I wasn't prepared for it. I wasn't ready for it." Silence falls between them, their eyes locked and Arizona slowly moves her hand across the table to rest on top of a caramel hand. "But I'm fighting again. For you. I'm fighting for you. You made me want to fight."

Both are thankful that the heaviness is broken by the arrival of their food, and they let the issue rest until another time, happy to dig into their delicious meal in front of them. No one is in a rush, the two having all afternoon to just hang out, and Arizona uses this time to get to know the Latina better. She realized while talking to Erica the other day that all of their chats have centered around Arizona, or softball. Robbins knows nearly nothing about Callie, her life, what she does, where she grew up. …Nothing. And that's an injustice she's happy to right.

Minutes fly by as Torres regales her pitcher is stories of her past, recounting the first time she took a ball to the face which left her with a shiner for two weeks, what her college experience was like and even what her hopes are for the future.

"Yeah, Daddy's not too happy with it." Callie sighs, having just laid out her imagined restaurant for the woman sitting across from her. "He wants me to take over for him, but… I just don't want to. That was one of the things I loved about George though. He wanted me to be happy."

A flash of jealousy makes Arizona say "While he cheated on you." Before she can stop herself, it's out there and now blue eyes go wide in shock.

But Callie doesn't snap back, just smiles and replies "Touché."

"Did you love him, though? George?" The blonde asks, wanting to know the lows of Callie's past just as much as the highs.

"I… I loved the idea of him, I think. He was sweet and cute and… goofy. He wasn't like all the other guys I dated or was set up with." Torres answers honestly. "But it wouldn't have lasted even if he _didn't_ lie to my face and screw his best friend. We just weren't good together. …He liked my cooking though." She adds, ticking one hash mark to the plus column of that failed relationship.

"I've only had it a couple times, but I like it too." Arizona replies, trying to get this conversation back on the upbeat side of things. "It's almost like you can taste the passion in it."

"It makes my heart sing." Callie sighs, reclining back in her chair a bit and bringing her drink up to her lips, taking sip and turning her gaze out to London passing by them.

"It's physiologically impossible for a heart to sing." The blonde states matter of factly, earning her a feigned look of annoyance from the Latina that makes her giggle.

"And what about you, Dr. Robbins." Callie turns the conversation on the pitcher. "What are your dreams? Are you prepared to live out your life as a softball player or will the sick tiny humans ever get their doctor back?"

Arizona knows Torres is just trying to mess with her, but the topic still weighs heavily on her heart. "Well, I failed my boards so… who knows."

Brown eyes study the woman across from her, Callie's mind going back through all the times she's seen Arizona study and bury herself in her textbooks. "I have a feeling that that's not the whole truth." Callie whispers just loud enough for Arizona to hear her. "I'd put good money on betting that you know every one of those textbooks and notebooks you lug around with you backwards and forwards. That you could recite those pages like you were reading from them." Blue eyes dip from brown and Arizona shifts uncomfortably in her seat. "I'm right, aren't I? You didn't fail your boards, did you?"

"I did." Arizona answers shortly. "Trust me, I've read my score about a thousand times since I got it. It's hard to confuse a zero with anything else."

"A zero?" Callie muses. "How often do zero's get given out to John Hopkins interns and residents?"

"At least once, apparently." The blonde replies, something inside of her breaking. "And to every other doctor who just sits across the street and stares at the building the test is being given in." When blue eyes move back up and meet brown again, she can tell Callie is waiting to let her finish. "I just… I couldn't go in there. My brother had just died. I had just put my best friend in the ground. …I couldn't see the point in sitting in front of three, over the hill doctors and try to convince them that I'm as good as I am. That I deserve what I have worked so hard for. They were scoring me, over a span of a few hours, what I had spent the last eight years learning and perfecting. …I was mad, at everyone and everything. And I was miserable. So… I sat across from the hotel and just… drank myself numb."

"But you're taking the test again, right? I mean… there has to be some sort of pardon that can be given. You know, extenuating circumstances or something? So you can test again, this time actually show up, and then pass." The Latina asks hopefully but all she gets is a shrug in response. "You _are _going to take the test again though, right?"

"I don't know." Arizona answers, averting her gaze from anywhere near her catcher.

"What do you mean 'you don't know'?" Torres asks.

"I mean, I don't know!" The blonde snaps, making Callie jump and Robbins quickly reels in her anger. Taking a deep breath, she explains in a calm and even tone, "I don't know if I'm taking the test again. I don't know if I even want to. I haven't thought that far out yet, Callie. Hell, I don't even know where I'm going once we get back stateside. I don't have an apartment or a job to go back to, I don't even know which of my parents live where. So… no, I don't know." Sad brown eyes meet blue and Arizona can feel the sympathy pouring from Callie's heart. "You talk about what makes your heart sing? Well, right now I'm more focused on breathing. Singing comes later."

Nearly three hours after sitting down for their meal, Callie and Arizona start to head back to their apartment. The sun is starting to set over the city of London and the breeze brings with it a slight chill. A smile appears on Torres's face when she feels the blonde nestle in closer to her body, their arms linking as they try to protect themselves against the cold. And even as they get closer and closer to Olympic Village, neither attempt to pull away from their close and intimate embrace. Photographers be damned.

* * *

"How's it looking?" Erica groans as Arizona manipulates her swollen ankle.

"Better." Arizona answers, running a finger over the joint and testing the ligaments and tendons. "Definitely better. I can tell you've been doing what I told you."

"Will she be able to play tomorrow?" This time it's Callie asking, the Latina sitting on the edge of the mattress opposite Hahn's and watching as Robbins checks out their teammate.

"Don't know. Right now, I'd say no but if the swelling continues to go down at the rate that it is…" Her shoulders shrug, years and years of experience keeping her from making promises. "We'll just have to wait and see."

After giving the agitated blonde more instructions to keep her ankle elevated and iced, Callie and Arizona head back to their rooms. They had arrived back at Olympic Village a couple hours ago but soon found out that just sitting in the bedroom with one another was a dangerous thing so they decided to take in some of the other competitions taking place. USA had been doing very well in the medal count and Arizona really wanted to say she witnessed one of her fellow athletes win gold… besides themselves. But now the sun has set and curfew is upon them, nerves and butterflies flaring up in the players' stomachs as they think about tomorrow.

When they get back to the apartment, both Teddy and Addison are all ready there. A chill is still present between Arizona and her friends so she just mumbles a good night and goes to hide in her room, Callie spending a few cursory minutes with them before making up an excuse to retire as well.

Both women fall back on their beds, each at opposite ends of the room, and stare up at the ceiling.

After a couple seconds, Arizona says "Sing something."

"What?" Callie asks in surprise.

The blonde rolls over on her side so she can see the Torres, then says again "Sing me something."

Callie just laughs, a blush starting to crawl across her face, and she says "Like what?"

"I don't know." Robbins murmurs, then chances, "Some little ditty about a grail or something? Maybe about you losing a part?"

Eyebrows furrow and Torres turns her glare to the woman across the room to find a bright and knowing smile lighting up Arizona's face. "Who told you?" Callie growls, immediately catching on to the blonde's game.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Arizona feigns ignorance with a cute little shrug.

"Arizona…" The Latina warns.

"Calliope…" Her pitcher plays back.

Callie slowly stands from her bed and stalks up on the older woman, Arizona curling in on herself the closer her catcher gets. "Tell me who told you about my play." The captain says, giving her roommate one more chance to come clean.

Arizona pretends to think for a second but quickly shakes her head, draws a zipper over her lips and throws away the key. Blue eyes meet brown hovering above her, the surgeon just testing Callie's empty threat.

With one last look, giving Arizona a chance to spill the beans, Callie attacks. She jumps on top of the blonde and immediately digs her fingers into the soft under flesh of Arizona's arms eliciting a very high pitched wail. Arizona tries to fight Callie off her but the woman is much stronger than Robbins and keeps her in place while continuing to tickle her.

"No! Stop! No! Calliope!" Arizona screams between fits of giggles, her body thrashing all over the bed as she tries to get away. Tears are streaming from her eyes and her dimples shine so bright that Callie is nearly blinded.

Somehow the blonde is able to grab the Latina's wrists and pull them from her body, but because Torres has the leverage of being on top she easily pins Arizona's hands above her head, bringing their faces and bodies even closer together. Suddenly they are in a very close setting, both their faces flushed and breathing ragged. Rich dark eyes stare down into cobalt blue and it's almost as if Callie can dive into Arizona's soul. Everything she's ever wanted to know about this woman is right there, right in front of her. All the pain and the hurt and the disappointment, it's right there. And Callie wants to take it all away, so she closes the small distance between them and kisses her pitcher passionately.

* * *

Out in the living room, Addison is flicking off the TV while Teddy grabs a bottle of water before both start to shuffle to their own bedroom. Just as they are about to cross the threshold a loud wail comes from the other bedroom, making both stop and stare at the closed door. The screaming and laughing and playing doesn't stop, and a knowing smirk crosses the redheads lips.

Turning slowly to her fellow teammate, she holds out her hand. "Pay up."

Altman's eyes roll in their sockets and she grabs a twenty pound note from her pocket, slapping it down on Addison's waiting palm. "Damn it." She growls, not liking the fact she lost her second straight bet.

Montgomery shrugs her shoulders and says "Hey, you were the one who wanted to go double or nothing." Folding the bill and slipping it into the cup of her bra, she continues her way to her bed while throwing over her shoulder "Told you it would work like a charm."

* * *

AN2: Next up, gold medal match and maybe even more progress between the power couple. Stay tuned folks.


	29. Chapter 29

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: Alright, the wait is over. Just wanted to say thanks to everyone who has stuck out this long haul. Gold medal game is up! Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 29

The sound of a gun going off is what jerks Arizona awake, the sound of screaming and shouting still fresh in her ears. It's the same dream that has haunted her for months, the dream where she witnesses her brother's death. Of course the Marine's and the government haven't disclosed the details of his death, just stating that he died during an act of heroism, but the surgeon's mind has more than made up for it. The specifics vary, from him jumping on a grenade, diving in front of a bullet, to saving a young child from certain demise, but the end is always the same. Arizona jolts awake with a layer of cold sweat over her body, the image of glassy, lifeless blue eyes staring right at her as her brother takes his last breath.

She rests an open palm against her chest, tracking her racing heart as the blonde tells herself again that it was just a dream. …Kind of. Her brother is still dead, there's no waking up from that nightmare.

Her heart starts to calm and Arizona sits up, her eyes roaming the room as she gets her bearings. The sun is barely peeking over the horizon and there is a beautiful tint to the grayish rainy sky over London. Beside her, in the twin bed pushed against hers to form a double, is Callie. The catcher is hanging precariously over the edge where any movement or surprise will send the Latina toppling over. A smile plays at pink lips, Arizona thinking back to last night, the two of them just… being with one another. It was so easy. No awkwardness, no forced smiles. Just… them.

A small part of her wishes, and craves, more. But Arizona is happy they didn't go any further last night, it would have been too soon. She doesn't regret the first night they had, it was amazing. But… right now Arizona is perfectly happy to just sleep with Callie. No sex, just sleeping in the same bed. That is a level of intimacy greatly overlooked, and it's something the Arizona finds herself very quickly becoming addicted to.

Arizona's fingertips tingle with want, her body craving the touch of the Latina. The way raven hair is splayed over a pillow and the catcher's strong body at its most relaxed is a sight that should be considered the world's eighth natural wonder.

She scoots across the bed, moving behind Callie, and breathes the Latina in. Her scent courses through Arizona's body, wiping away any vestiges of sleep that might have been left. The blonde places a soft hand on the curve of her catcher's hip, Callie shifting slightly under the touch, and pink lips lay a feather light kiss against the woman's warm, caramel flesh of her temple.

The pitcher could spend all day next to Callie but the sudden realization of what today is creates a wave of nervous energy that surges through the blonde's veins, and Arizona decides that her morning yoga routine would be just what the doctor ordered. She slides out of bed as smoothly as possible, Callie turning from her side to her back and letting out some sort of snort/snore crossbreed, but succeeds in not waking her roommate. Quickly grabbing some clothes to throw on, as well as a pair of shoes, Arizona tiptoes out of the room. Throwing one last glance at the sleeping woman, Arizona stops in her tracks. She doesn't want Callie to wake up and think she abandoned the Latina again, even if they didn't 'sleep together' sleep together last night. So she moves as stealthily back across the room as possible and leaves a note on her still dented pillow before closing the door behind her and heading off to her morning workout.

* * *

There are few things more refreshing than waking naturally, brown eyes fluttering open as Callie's mind pushes her slowly back into consciousness after 8 straight hours of pure sleep. Her gaze immediately falls on the scene just outside the bedroom, London dull and gray with heavy skies, the smell of rain in the air. It's one of those mornings you just don't want to get out of bed, and the perfect cocoon the Latina is wrapped in makes it even harder.

Torres raises her arms over her head and stretches as far as she can, a satisfied groan rattling around her throat, before she turns and faces the other direction. But when she doesn't find a sleeping blonde next to her a pang of regret pulls plump lips into a frown. She reaches out to the rumpled sheets and feels the last hints of warmth still present, her gaze flicking up to the pillow finding something left on it. That frown doesn't last long, a smile soon replacing it as Callie recognizes the paper flower set on the blonde's pillow. It's the same flower she gave Arizona when she picked the pitcher up for their first date here in London, and Callie immediately knows it's to let her know that Arizona will be back soon.

She lies back in bed, her eyes staring up at the textured ceiling above her, while her mind replays scenes from the last few months. Nothing about her relationship with Arizona has been, what most would consider, easy. Or normal. They seem to have been pissed and not talking to each other more often than they aren't, but when they are on, when they are working… it's amazing. When Arizona smiles at her it feels as if all the dark and twisty's inside Callie just evaporate, leaving nothing but happy feelings and lightness.

The opening of the apartment door catches Callie's attention, and a moment later the jiggling of the bedroom door handle announces Arizona's return. The blonde tries to be quiet, but she stubs her toe against the door jam and grunts in pain, biting her lip to contain the chain of expletives that are on the tip of her tongue.

A muffled laugh pulls blue eyes over to the bed where she finds Callie's signature smile lighting up the room. "Oh, you're up." Arizona says, smiling back at the Latina.

"Yep." Callie answers, sitting up in bed and letting the sheet fall down to her waist, exposing her tank top clad chest. Brown eyes spy the large bag in the blonde's hand and asks "You bring me a present?"

"Breakfast." The pitcher announces, shutting the bedroom door behind her and joining Callie by sitting on the edge of the bed.

Tanned fingers dip under the hem of her pitcher's shirt, finding slick skin beneath. "Ew, you're all sweaty." Callie teases, lightly tugging on Arizona's stained workout shirt.

"Yeah, I snuck in a quick workout this morning." The blonde replies, pulling out a couple Styrofoam containers from the bag, as well as two orange juices. "Hoped I'd be back before you woke up but I'm hoping that this…" She reveals Callie's breakfast with a flourish, "…makes up for it."

"Not bad." Torres sighs, feigning disinterest in her delivered breakfast. "But I know of something better." She adds, the fists the material of the blonde's shirt and pulls her down for a slow and passionate kiss. When Arizona pulls away she has to shake her head and clear her throat, all ability to form any coherent thoughts having lost her after that fiery embrace. Callie chuckles, loving the effect she has on the blonde, and asks confidently "You ok there, Battleship?"

"Uh, yeah." The blonde answers, her voice thick with want. Needing to get on some sort of even playing field, she adds "Morning breath never tasted so good."

"Hey!" Callie whines, shoving her pitcher playfully. "That was mean." But it had its desired effect and Callie consciously pulls her blanket up to cover her mouth.

Arizona just chuckles, then pushes the Latina's food closer to her. "Eat, Calliope. We got a big day today."

* * *

"So, let's jump right into it." A smiling and bright eyed woman states, crossing her legs and settling into her chair while the little red light behind her flicks on. "Gold Medal game. What's it mean?"

"Means everything." Webber answers, the man sitting in the middle of his two captains, with Arizona on Callie Torres's left.

"You've lost both times you've faced Japan in these games, and USA lost to them in their last matchup in 2008, what do you have to do differently today to change that today?" The interviewer asks.

"Last game wasn't really a loss." Arizona muses, getting a couple head nods in agreement. "More of a… officiating blunder."

"Does that affect your mental state?" The woman asks. "Knowing that something this important can come down to a bad call? Will that be in the back of your heads when you step out on the field again today?"

Tanned fingers fidget, a heat rising in Callie's face from the camera trained at her, but she answers "We've all been playing for years. Bad calls happen, it's a part of playing a sport such as softball. …And football. Basketball. Volleyball. …It's not a timed sport, such as running. You can't argue a time, but you can argue human judgment. There will always been that factor of human error. But… we can't let that become our focus. And we won't."

"Actually, it just fires up more." Teddy continues with Torres's train of thought. "We just have to increase the lead so that one bad call won't make such a huge difference."

"Is that the game plan?" Their interviewer asks.

"Well… it's always the game plan to win." Arizona states, making the four others chuckle. "But, you know… we just have to play our game. Bring the heat. And leave no doubt."

* * *

Cold slaps the USA team in the face as two near perfect lines of women jog around the field. Today is not what most dreamed of when picturing a gold medal game. Instead of a shining sun and beautiful skies, London has instead delivered dreary and depressing grey clouds, constantly threatening a torrential downfall that could delay the game for hours. But that doesn't diminish the woman's taste for victory, instead giving them one more obstacle to overcome.

"Circle up." Callie calls, her breathing a bit ragged from the extra few laps she lead her team in in hopes to fight off the bone chilling cold that is present in the air.

"God damn, it's cold." King groans, pulling her sweatshirt sleeves down further and fisting the ends in her hands. "My nipples could cut glass over here."

"I'd like to see that." Addison muses, getting a shove from her teammate as she passes.

"Come on, ladies. Circle up." Callie calls again, trying not to let her own anxiety take over.

The team warms up, taking extra time to stretch out their muscles because of the cold atmosphere, and start their drills. Hunt hits soft grounders to the infielders while Derek sends fly balls to the outfield, each player getting their footing in on the damp surface. Not only is softball a game of skill, but also being able to adapt. Rain changes the dirt and grass, altering how the ball reacts while in play. Outfielder's cleats slip and slide while infielders may get stuck in the muck of the dirt. A pitcher will lose not only tactility of the ball, but also control and movement. All these obstacles come while playing in the rain, and each player silently prays that the clouds hold off for just a couple more hours.

The game is only minutes from starting when Arizona walks up behind Callie and asks "How she looking?"

Torres turns, a smile immediately showing up on her face at the sight of the blonde in front of her, blonde hair braided beautifully, and replies, "Good. She's looking really good. Nervous but…"

"Aren't we all." Arizona muses, giggling softly and pulling her arms tighter around her in efforts to ward off the cold. "She'll do well though."

"She'll do until you come in." The catcher adds, giving the woman a sultry wink. The coaches have decided to put Lucy on the mound to start, keeping Arizona fresh to come in as relief. It's a risky move since Japan had had earned more bases against the newer pitcher in the last game, and now that they've seen her already Japan will be even hotter, but with Arizona at short they have a stronger infield. If and when Lucy starts to struggle, that will be when Arizona goes in to pitch, but the coaches are hoping to be able to hold off the Japanese batters while USA is able to earn a couple early game runs.

"Let's not jinx it, huh?" The blonde plays. "Me stepping on the mound means we're losing." The rest of their team is shuffling around the dugout, doing their last minute rituals as the two teams coaches have a chat out on home plate. A hum of excitement makes the stadium rattle, thousands of spectators braving the cold and rain to watch the two softball giants battle it out for gold.

Despite being watched by fans and camera's, the Latina steps into the blondes personal space and places her hands on Arizona's slim hips, leaning in to whisper "We're not going to lose."

"Bring it in ladies!" Webber shouts, this entourage of coaches following in his wake as he steps down into the dugout. "Alright, because of Japan's winning record, we are visitors. Meaning we're up to bat first. So let's hit em hard and hit em fast, alright? Bring the fire and leave no doubt." The women hoot and shout in agreement, those butterflies and nerves quickly manifesting into competitive drive. "Robbins, you're starting us off just like always. Let's see you put those wheels to good use. …Torres, send it off."

"Hands in!" Callie yells, a mass of hands, some in batting gloves, some tapped, some with red, white and blue nail polish, even some even chewed from anxiety, form in the center of their circle. Rich brown eyes find sad blue ones across from her, and the captain says "Erica, send it up."

A crooked smile forms on Hahn's lips, the blonde having been wallowing in pity of herself for losing her opportunity to partake in today's game, and mouths a silent 'thank you' before exclaiming, "Alright ladies, our time now. Our time. …USA!"

"ALL THE WAY!" The team shouts in unison, those in the stadium closest to the USA's dugout cheering with them.

Arizona pulls on her blue batting gloves, her stomach knotting at the thought of stepping into the batter's box for a gold medal Olympic game. She can feel not just her team, Japan's team, and all in attendance here watching her, but all of America as well. Knowing that her nation is watching this match, cheering on their fellow countrymen, brings her back to the first surgery she ever performed. It was an appendectomy on a 46 year old man. …And she chocked under the pressure. All of her fellow interns, residents and Attendings watching her from the OR gallery, betting on when she would lose it. It was too much, and the patient nearly died. He would have if Arizona's resident didn't step in. Sure, that was years and years ago, and Arizona proved to everyone that she is, in fact, an outstanding surgeon. …At least, she was. Now she's a softball player. And she's about to show everyone just exactly why she was picked above all those other women at tryouts.

When a hand taps her butt lightly, Arizona is startled out of her daydreaming. "You got this, Battleship." Callie whispers in her ear from behind.

"Batter!" The ump calls, waving Arizona onto the field but her legs seem to be weighed down now.

"Show us how it's done, baby." Callie purrs, skimming her lips across the blonde's ear before nudging the woman forward.

The pitcher trips out onto the field, her eyes immediately scanning the large crowd packed in the seats. As much as she knows she's going to let herself down, Arizona quickly looks for a familiar face. Her mom, her dad… Tim. But no one is there, only strangers. This, like everything else since Tim's death, is something Arizona must conquer on her own.

She crosses in front of the Japanese catcher, dark eyes watching the blonde every step. Arizona glances down the third base line, catching Shepherd's sign to slap, and takes a couple practice swings. Arizona slaps her helmet, taking a deep breath and finding the gaze of the home plate ump, the same home plate ump who made the very bad call that cost USA their last win against Japan.

"Did you wear your glasses today, Blue?" She asks with a smile, getting a hard stare from the man in return.

"Batter." He calls again, gesturing her to step into the box.

"Just checking." She says, giving him one of her signature dimpled smile before taking her stance within the chalk lines. "Wouldn't want a repeat of the last game."

* * *

Japan quickly dispenses three outs to USA and the Americans soon take the field. Everyone tries to play off the nerves that are coursing through their bodies, but as they cross the chalk line and hit the Olympic field the stadium erupts. Some feed off the crowd, while other's shrink from it.

"You ok, Fields?" Arizona asks as she walks out on the dirt with the starting pitcher. "Looking a little pasty."

"Uh, yeah." Lucy replies, her eyes scanning the large crowd surrounding all sides of the field and fighting back the urge to vomit right there on her pitching mound. "I'm just uhhh… wow, this is so much bigger than nationals." She sighs.

"Hey, everyone alright?" Callie asks as she joins the circle around the pitching rubber and finds Addison, Teddy and Arizona all watching the newest blonde nervously.

"Think she's a bit nervous." Arizona whispers.

"No need to be." The captain says, clapping the pitchers shoulder. "You got me behind the plate, and your team has your back. Just do your thing."

"Right." Lucy replies shakily. "Right, just do my thing. That's it."

"There you go. You got it." Callie tells her, placing the ball in the woman's mitt before pulling her mask down and retreats to her position.

"We got ya, girl." Teddy tells the pitcher, the circle of players excepting a round of high fives like always. After all, the gold medal game is not the time to break from tradition. "You just worry about smoking those Japanese out of the box, we'll handle the rest."

The home plate umpire calls up the first Japan batter, and USA gets set in their positions. Bailey at center calls out the play to her fellow outfielders while Arizona alerts the infield as to where to go. Callie quickly scans her team, making sure all her players are positioned correctly for the batter who is just stepping up. Teddy moves up a bit to cover a bunt, as well as Naomi at third while Addison and Arizona shift to cover even more of the dirt if needed. The outfielders move in slightly, while center takes a couple steps back. All these things happen within a second, like a finely tuned clock, a single moving cog creating a chain reaction.

Torres locks gazes with the batter from behind her mask as the woman steps up, giving her a crooked smile before looking back to her pitcher and calling for a high and tight fastball. …There's no greeting like a little brush off, after all.

"Strike!" The umpire calls, the Japanese batter just watching it fly by.

"That right, baby! Right there." Arizona shouts, bouncing on the balls of her feet and resetting. "Alright, no outs. Plays at one, ladies. Watch the corners."

USA gets set again and Lucy winds up, testing the batters patience by sending the same pitch again, only for it to clip the strike zone and get called a ball. The next pitch comes and the batter squares around and shows a bunt. Teddy and Naomi move up instinctively, the ping of ball on bat causing a whirl of action to happen.

Addison sprints to first, Yang in right running in to back up the throw just in case. The Japanese batter takes off like a rocket, running past the still rolling ball. Teddy gets to it first but doesn't touch it. The mass of leather starts to veer to the right, the wet dirt giving it an easier surface to roll.

"Let it roll!" Callie calls needlessly as she watches the first baseman follow it, only bending down and touching it when it rolls across the chalk line.

"Foul!" The home plate umpire calls, earning a groan from the entire Japanese bench.

The batter, who had already made it to first, jogs back and steps back into the box, pissed that her base was just taken from her. And because she's still upset, she takes a less than perfect hack at the next pitch she sees, sending a pop fly into right which Cristina easily fields, earning USA their first out.

* * *

Two innings in and the score is still tied zero-zero, each team putting away batters quickly after only facing four or five batters, at most. Lucy has settled into the mound and is pitching much more confidently, feeling protected under the watchful eye of her captain behind the plate. For as much as Callie's insides are twisting, on the outside she is as cool as a cucumber. …So to speak.

After facing two batters, earning her first strike out but allowing the following Japanese player on base with a hard hit grounder up the center, Lucy finds herself facing the lead off batter again. Blue eyes flick between first and her catcher behind home, Arizona trying to catch Callie's gaze. Japan is known for stealing, and Arizona knows that if there is an arm out there that can catch a runner high and dry, it's Calliope Torres.

The captain motions for first and third to move up in anticipation for a sacrifice bunt, Japan wanting to advance their runner on first and putting her in scoring position. Teddy and Naomi cautiously tip toe further up the base lines, Addison shifting towards first and Arizona shifting towards second. Callie perches up on her toes a bit more, leaning forward so she can bolt from her squat even faster if need be.

Just before she sets her glove up for Lucy, Callie finds sharp blue eyes staring at her, Arizona silently conveying a message to the Latina. And imperceptible nod is all Robbins needs to know that a big play is about to unfold.

Fields winds up and sends a scorcher up and away, but the Japan batter chases it, the ball falling softly to the ground and landing just a foot in front of home. The runner on first takes advantage of her short lead off, nearly halfway to second by the time Callie is out of her squat and getting her hand on the ball. The usual play to make is the sure out at first, but Callie wants to send a message and instead fires off the ball towards second.

A flash of yellow is all Arizona sees and she barely makes it to the bag in time to catch the ball and tag the base. The same second her hand closes around the ball, the runner from first comes sliding into second, the two's legs becoming tangled and bringing Arizona down.

The umpire runs up to the bag, looking for the ball. When Arizona raises the ball still clutched in her glove, the entire stadium erupts when the umpire calls "She's out!"

A hard glare comes from the runner when Arizona rolls off her, a fair hand reaching out to offer assistance. Even if they are at the Olympics, the highest level of competition, and are fighting for gold, that doesn't mean Arizona isn't about to be nice. And sometimes she's nice just to piss the other players off even more. It's almost like a game to her. …Kill em with kindness. One of her mom's favorite phrases.

Arizona tosses the ball back to Lucy, the infield exchanging a quick round of high fives at the pitching circle before backing up to their positions again. Blue eyes connect with brown hidden under her catcher's mask and Callie gives the blonde a nod, a big smile barely visible on the Latina's face. One that the camera doesn't miss nor does every American currently watching the game back home.

* * *

"Go go go go!" Arizona screams as if her cheering pushes Meredith Grey around the bases even faster. She watches the blonde streak from home to first, then rounding the bag at Mark Sloan's signal, setting her sights on second. The Japanese left outfielder finally fields the ball and sends it to the cutoff, their shortstop turning to find Grey hitting the dirt and popping up on second like it was no effort at all. The entire USA bench, and all of its fans, cheer and applaud as Meredith turns her smile to them and waves.

With another ripping of the Velcro at her batting gloves, Arizona steps up to the batter's box for her second at bat for the game. The first at bat didn't result in getting on base, but now that her nerves have settled a bit, Arizona is ready to make the Japanese cry.

The pitcher facing her knows that the blonde is a bunter and a slapper, relying more on her speed than her bat to make it on base, and starts to throw the surgeon junk. Arizona remains patient, watching a couple balls go by before chasing a curve and tipping it foul. Her team keeps her head up, blue eyes remaining focused on the prize.

Another pitch comes and Arizona makes contact, bolting out of the batter's box as soon as she feels her bat vibrate. But she is immediately called back because it flew back behind the catcher from being tipped. Now she is down in the count with two strikes, and she steps over to the other batter's box. On two strikes, a foul tip equates to a third strike and an out. So now she has to actually swing.

Glancing towards Derek at third out of habit all she gets is a supportive nod, and her eyes trail over to the American bench to find Callie watching her intensely. After a second of staring into serious brown eyes, something shakes Torres of her thoughts and a smile forms on plump lips. The blonde can't make out all of what the Latina mouths to her, but she distinctly makes out the word 'Battleship'.

After barely holding back from swinging at a down and out ball, Arizona takes a big hack at the next pitch, the ball flying off the bat and sailing just over the infield, dropping to the ground in shallow left field. Because the blonde had routinely been hitting right, the outfield had shifted that way and now the left fielder has even further to go to field the ball. Coach Sloan capitalizes on it and instead of signaling his runner to hold up on first, he signals her to second. A split second of doubt crosses the blonde's mind, but she immediately swings wide and rounds the bag, kicking off the corner and pushes her body faster down the base line.

The roar of blood rushing through her body is all she hears, the cheering of her team and the crowd going unheard, and the surgeon falls into a perfect slide well ahead of any play being made. When the dust clears she see's Meredith still at third, not chancing being thrown out if trying to take home. Now USA has two runners in scoring position and no outs. This is the best set up they've had yet, and now it's up to the meat of the batting order to take advantage.

Yang is up next, only catching a piece of it and sending a soft blooper to second who quickly throws her out at first. Next up is Naomi, one of the few the team deems a 'power hitter', and the Japanese outfielders take couple steps back. The imposing woman steps into the batter's box, and after taking a couple pitches she connects for a hard grounder. Shepherd sends Grey home, Arizona quickly jumping from second, but the Japanese throw home instead of going after Campbell.

After a messy collision, Meredith is called out at home and Derek throws his hat into the fence in anger after sending the runner.

While Japan is celebrating their small victory Callie prepares to take her at bat, the Latina taking deep and steady breaths. There are two outs, with runners on second and third. Perfect scoring position. All Torres needs to do is put the ball in play and she knows that Arizona will be able to make it home without even breaking a sweat. But… putting the ball into play is the difficult part. The Japan pitcher seems to have Callie's ticket, keeping the ball away from the captain's sweet spot and making her chase anything and everything.

"Come on, Cal!" Arizona shouts from third. "Come on, bring me home baby. One time. That's all we need. One time!"

As much as the Latina tries to maintain her stone faced, hardcore façade, the sound of the pet name 'baby' coming from Arizona makes her smile. The couple's eyes meet for a fraction of a second before Callie turns her back to the blonde at third and steps into the batter's box.

For as quick at the interaction happens it does not go unnoticed. Coach Shepherd clears his throat and gives his runner a knowing look.

Blue eyes roll and Arizona growls, "Shut up."

"Hey, I didn't say a word." Derek replies with a smile.

"Let's keep it that way." The blonde tells him, and then shifts back into game mode.

Callie battles the pitcher until she has a 3-1 count. After a quick scan of the field she can't find a single, exposed weakness in the other team's defense. …At least, not one that she would normally use. But the gold medal game isn't the time to play it safe. It's the time to take chances.

So she steps back into the box with a whole new plan, and get's set. As soon as the pitcher starts her wind up the Latina squares around for a bunt, catching the infield completely off guard… as well as her own team and coaches.

The captain connects ball with bat, the yellow ball rolling down the first base line. The first baseman rushes the ball, anticipating an easy third out. But Callie knows the rules, and she knows Arizona. Instead of running on through to first, the Latina halts in the base line, forcing the first baseman to either run up and tag her, or back track to the bag. And because there were two outs, as soon as Arizona saw the ball bounce of her captain's bat she took off at full speed.

That added second it takes for the first baseman to make up her mind, rushing up the base line to lay a tag on Torres, is the added second Arizona needs to make it to home plate.

"Safe-" "Out!" Are called at nearly the same time. …Nearly. But before the third out was made, Arizona made it home.

All eyes and ears turn to the home plate umpire, waiting for the official ruling. It doesn't take long, and when he signals that the runner was safe at home USA erupts. After three innings of fighting they've finally made it on the board.

Callie jogs back to the dugout, but get's intercepted by an ecstatic blonde. "You are AWESOME!" Arizona shouts, their excited embrace quickly added to when the rest of their team joins in.

"Alright! Come on ladies, we still got a game to play!" Webber calls, the dog pile breaking up as US players make their way back on field to face the next set of Japanese batters. As Callie is quickly suiting herself up, Richard puts a hand on her shoulder and adds "That's how you lead, Torres. Way to work."

"Thanks, Coach." Torres replies, a swelling of pride filling her body. Maybe, just maybe, this is their game.

* * *

Six innings in and the score is 2-0, USA in the lead. Lucy was pulled in the middle of the third inning after Japan was getting the better of her, not that the runners were getting very far, but Mark wasn't about to test it. Instead he had Arizona go in as relief, and was not disappointed. It took a couple batters for the blonde to loosen up, the bone chilling cold from before never leaving the air. But now… it's starting to rain.

Robbins turns her face up to the grey skies above, cold droplets of water spattering her skin and feeling little tiny pin pricks. During the past hour of play she has grown accustomed to the cold, a small level of numbness now surrounding her body, but adding rain to the mix is not something the blonde appreciates. Being cold is one thing. Being cold _and _is a whole different ball game.

"You got your towel?" Someone asks, making Arizona snap back to the present and finding a suited up Torres standing in front of her.

"Got it, Boss." Arizona answers, reaching behind her and physically checking that she does, in fact, have a clean and dry towel to wipe her hand off. "Got your windshield wipers?"

"Look at you, with the jokes." Callie plays which makes the blonde giggle.

"Pitcher!" The home plate umpire calls.

"Do your thing, Battleship." Torres purrs, a brown eye winking before she retreats to her spot behind home plate.

Arizona and the rest of the US team battle for two more innings, the plays becoming more intense and more dangerous. When one team is feeling the pressure they push harder, making the other team push just as hard back. Soon slides that take down fielders weren't intentional earlier in the game become intentional. Cleats start moving higher and higher, seeking soft skin to dig into. Torres takes more than one rough hit while protecting home plate but not a single Japanese runner is enough to get through the wall. Teddy becomes a human vacuum and sucks up any throw within ten feet of her, and the outfielders lay it all on the line by going full out on more than one fly ball.

By the time the seventh inning rolls around, everyone has been played through and once immaculate uniforms are wet and stained, some with dirt, some with grass. Those previously in the game but now benched wrap themselves up in sweatshirts and jackets to try and fend off the cold and those still playing keep moving to prevent their muscles from icing over during the slow moments. Arizona is asked nearly every minute if she is alright, more than one of her teammates offering her their jacket to keep her arm warm. April Kepner even goes so far as to wrap the blonde up in a tight hug, lending Arizona the redhead's own body heat.

With the score at 3-1, USA still up by two, the Americans prepare to bat for what could be the last time. All those nerves that settled over the course of the game come roaring back, the crowd around the stadium buzzing with excitement because everyone can sense the end is near. The Japanese have put up a hell of a counter attack, trying to hack away at the American defense and managing to get more than a couple runners in scoring position. But USA always manages to save the inning, jogging off the field with their lead still intact.

"Ok ladies, it's King, Grey, then we're back at the top of the lineup." Shepherd announces, the first few batters quickly pulling on their batting gloves and finding their helmet.

Arizona wraps herself in a jacket and takes a seat in the corner of the dugout where a small space heater has been plugged in. It doesn't do much, but it is able to cut the chill just a bit. Next to her is a defeated looking Erica Hahn, Robbins only now realizing how silent the ex-captain has been all day.

"You ok, Erica?" Arizona asks earnestly.

"Yeah." Hahn answers softly, her shoulders slumped and eyes glued to the ground. "Just perfect." But the woman can feeling piercing blue eyes staring at her and Erica lifts her gaze to meet her teammates. "I just… It's nothing. I wish I could play."

Arizona nods solemnly, understanding why the woman feels that way. If she had made it all this way, only to have to sit out in the most important game of her life, Arizona would be pissed too.

The crack of a ball against a bat heralds a round of cheering as Robbins looks up just in time to see Charlotte make it to first just before the tag.

"Can you put weight on it?" Arizona asks quickly.

"What?" Hahn asks in confusion.

"Your ankle? Can you put weight on it?" The pitcher asks, knowing that if her plan is going to happen it needs to be decided quickly. "Can you play through the pain? I'm not asking as a doctor right now, I'm asking as your teammate. Can you play through the pain?"

Erica meets determined blue eyes, sensing her teammate is formulating something, and replies confidently "Hell yeah."

"Good." And with that Arizona rushes to Webber's side. Tugging the material of his sleeve, the surgeon has to nearly smack him upside the head to get his attention pulled away from the game. "Put Hahn in for me this inning." She says.

"Excuse me?" Webber asks, giving his player the 'you've gone off your rocker' look.

"Erica. Put her in for me. Let her bat." The blonde says again, sparing glances to Meredith Grey in the batter's box, each pitch passing being one less pitch Arizona has to make this happen.

"I put her in, and you have to come out." Richard explains. "And… if you haven't been paying attention, we kind of need you in the game, Robbins." By now a couple fellow teammates have overheard the panicked discussion and are listening in.

Callie, being one such eavesdropper, says "Pinch hitter. She can be Arizona's pinch hitter." Their coach's brow scrunches in thought and the Latina continues, "The pitcher is allowed to use a pinch hitter at anytime in the game as long as it's the same player batting for the same player. It's in the rulebook. I should know, I read it."

By now Grey had swung at strike three and the home plate umpire is calling "Batter!"

Webber quickly walks over to the depressed Erica Hahn and asks in his most serious tone "You ok to go in?"

"Yes, sir." Hahn answers, pushing up onto her feet and having to bite her lip to not groan in pain as pressure gets applied to her still tender ankle. "Just needed a little dirt on it."

Webber doesn't waste another second and quickly scales the steps out of the dugout to go and announce the change in lineup. Erica Hahn awkwardly hops around the dugout, finding her batting gloves, helmet and bat, and steps out on the field for the first time.

From her spot against the fence, Arizona feels something bump against her hip and she turns to find Callie Torres stepping up next to her, a dazzling smile on her face.

"What?" The blonde asks, melting slightly at the breathtakingly stunning woman before her, even if her uniform is wet, clinging to a strong and curvy body, with traces of dirt and grass all over. Somehow Callie makes even that look hot.

"I can't believe you just did that." Torres murmurs.

"Did what?" The surgeon asks again.

"That." Callie answers, nodding slightly towards Erica who is just stepping into the batter's box. "You gave up your last at bat just so Erica got some playing time."

The pitcher just shrugs her shoulders, turning her attention back to the game in front of them. "No big deal."

"No big deal?" The captain parrots, her voice rising in disbelief. "Yeah, sure… No big deal, Arizona. There are about a thousand girls out there that would kill to just sit on this bench with us, and you… You just…" When the Latina seems to struggle for exactly what she wants to say blue eyes find brown and suddenly everything crystallizes.

"You're amazing." Callie whispers.

Neither knows which one starts to lean in first but somehow their lips start to crave the touch of the other's. The team and everyone else in the stadium are focused on the gold medal debut of Erica Hahn, but Callie and Arizona only see each other. And just as they connect in the softest of kisses, the signature sound of a bat smacking a ball fills the air, immediately followed by the scream of a thousand people, an entire nation, rocks the ground.

* * *

"Batter up!" The head umpire calls and Callie jogs from behind the plate to join the rest of the infield circled around the pitcher's mound.

"You ladies ready to put them out of their misery?" She asks with a smile, a drop of rain making its way into her catcher's mask and tickling her nose.

"Shut em down!" Lexie says, trying her best to sound badass but somehow failing.

"Three up, three down. That's how we're going to do this." Teddy tells her fellow players.

"Send em home crying like a bunch of pansies." Charlotte adds, each woman giving the rest a quick high five. With a sharp smack on Arizona's ass by one of the four, they retreat back to their positions leaving just the blonde and the Latina left in the circle.

"How ya doing?" Callie asks, smiling at the small look of terror on her pitcher's face.

"Uh… feel like I could throw up at any second." Arizona answers.

Taking a half step closer, Torres lowers her voice and asks "Would it help or hurt things if I kissed you right now?"

"Uh…" Suddenly Robbins' mouth goes dry and she loses her train of thought.

"Pitcher!" The ump calls, he and the Japanese batter waiting for the Latina to come off the mound.

"Relax, Battleship." Callie tells her, backing up a step. "I'm just messing with you. …Just breathe and you'll be fine. Because this moment, your moment, it only comes once. Time to make it count." With a wink the Latina pulls her mask down over her face and jogs back to the plate.

Blue eyes close and Arizona takes a deep, calming breath. She pictures herself in the OR, a young patient sprawled out on her table, and goes through the same steps as she does to prepare herself for an intense surgery. Deep breaths, visualizing her movements, telling herself over and over again that she knows what to do, so just do it.

When she opens her eyes the blonde finds a waiting batter and a nice, fat glove just begging to feel the smack of her pitch. Accepting the sign from her catcher, Arizona winds up and sends a heater down and out, earning the first strike of the inning.

After battling her first batter for seven pitches, a soft grounder would have led to an easy out but Montgomery's throw is off target, her grip slipping from the rain falling, but Teddy keeps it contained. Addison looks like she's about to explode on herself but her teammates quickly calm her down and get her focused again. It's only one runner, and USA is up by three runs. Plenty of room to work with.

Arizona sets up for the next batter but steps off when she can't get a feel on the ball, signaling Callie and the home plate ump for a new one. The pitcher takes another second to dry her hand and breathe some hot air into her fist, trying to ward off the numbness starting to cover her skin.

With another sign from Callie, Arizona sends her first pitch to her second batter of the inning. But her grip slips and the ball goes sailing past the Latina. Torres jumps from her squat immediately, ripping her mask off and sliding to the ball, winding her arm back to fire at a seconds notice. But the runner on base is content with just stealing one bag, not wanting to test the catcher's arm by trying third.

"Damn it." Arizona growls, quickly feeling herself starting to crumble under the pressure.

"Time Blue!" Sloan calls, then confidently strides out onto the field. He waves Torres and the rest of the infield off, wanting to only talk to his pitcher. "How you doing Blondie?" He asks in his deep voice.

"Good. Just slipped." Arizona answers, swapping out her towel with the fresh, warm one her coach brought out to her.

"I know." Mark replies. "Just thought you could use an extra second to relax. …So where do you think the team should go to celebrate?" He asks in such a carefree tone that it makes Arizona stumble. "I hear there is this club downtown that's pretty hot right now. Maybe we should-"

"How about we focus on actually _winning _first." Arizona interrupts.

"You got it, kiddo." Sloan replies, giving his player a strong clap on the shoulder before turning and heading off the field.

"And don't call me that!" Arizona shouts after him, earning a chuckle from her infield who overheard their conversation.

"Play ball!" The umpire calls, pulling the blonde's attention back to the game. Whatever Mark Sloan was trying to do, it worked. No longer is Arizona Robbins worried about the game, now she's just wondering what the hell is wrong with her coach. …And why he would think that the team would want to party with _him. _He's like their dad.

A tanned hand smacks at her glove, the sound echoing through the rain enough to reach her pitcher's ears and catch Arizona's attention. Callie doesn't know what their coach said to the woman, but Arizona now looks completely relaxed again, maybe even a bit confused.

The Latina flashes her sign between her thighs, getting a tight not in agreement from her pitcher, and then sets up. Where the last ball went sailing behind her, this one get's put right in Callie's hand with a very satisfying burn.

"Oh yeah, she's on it." Callie murmurs, not able to hide the confident smile any longer. She can taste it, she can actually feel the gold medal resting around her neck right now. Just one inning, three outs. And it's hers.

Another pitch, another strike. One last drop ball the falls just as the batter swings, and USA is only two outs away from gold. Their team erupts in cheers, the roar of the crowd almost deafening, but a calm has settled over Robbins. She's in the zone, just like she would be in the OR. It's not being cocky, or arrogant, but Arizona just knows she's got this. She's confident. She's sure. …And she hasn't felt like this since Tim died and her life fell around her.

The next batter up takes a chop at the first pitch she sees, the Japanese woman shaking slightly under the intense blue eyes staring down at her. It falls in between Bailey and Kepner, who is now in right, neither able to make any real play on it. This leaves two runners on with only one out. If both manage to score it would be a tied game, forcing overtime. But Arizona isn't about to let her gold medal match go into overtime. Nope, it's going to end with USA _earning _the last out. Showing the world once and for all who the best softball team really is.

Now the situation is USA up by two runs, Japan with one out and a runner on first and third. It's a given that the first pitch Arizona throws to the next batter earns the other team a stolen base, the runner on first taking a less than frantic stroll to second since the runner on third is preventing Callie from making any sort of play. Typically Torres wouldn't hesitate in firing to second, even if to just remind the other team that she has an arm, but with only one out on their side and the rain steadily falling, soaking everything and everyone, she isn't about to chance a wild throw.

The crack of a bat puts the ball into play, everyone on the field moving at once. It's a hard grounder just out of Arizona's reach, but Lexie is there at second to field it. With a quick look to the runner at third, halting her attempt at home, Little Grey shoots the ball to first. Japan is known for their speed and it's only because Teddy's arms and legs are so long, giving her a couple extra inches of reach, that she is able to make the tag before the batter makes contact.

"Out!" The first base umpire calls, the Japanese runner immediately arguing the call. Even their level headed coach steps out of the dugout to challenge it, not wanting to be on the receiving end of a lousy call this time. Sure, last time Japan came out on top, but it's totally different when the situation is reversed.

But after a couple minutes of arguing, all umpires convening for a quick huddle, the ruling remains the same and play continues.

"One out. One out. That's all you need, Robbins." Arizona murmurs to herself, using her wet towel to mop up the steady stream of rain falling down her face.

"Two outs, ladies! We got two outs!" Callie shouts from behind her plate. "Play's at one! Come on, let's finish this!"

A buzz fills the air and the entire USA team and crowd can feel it coming to an end. The next batter steps up, a veteran player that was on the Japanese team during the last Olympic Games in which USA came in second, and takes a deep breath. Runners in scoring position. If she is able to clean up the scored would become tied, forcing the game into overtime. She just needs to make solid contact, and she knows she will.

Brown eyes dart to her coach kneeling in the closest corner of USA's dugout, searching for a sign. But Mark doesn't offer her any. Torres has led the team this far, he's going to trust her to finish it out.

"Alright then." Callie whispers. "Let's see if you can play…" A quick flash of fingers between her legs and Arizona immediately accepts.

The first pitch comes, slicing in a bit too much and it gets called a ball. Second pitch, screwball that makes the batter dizzy trying to chase it, tying up the count. The third pitch is a straight and simple fast ball, high and tight that the batter just watches go by. Strike two. The entire US bench and it's crowd is on their feet, electricity connecting them all in a single mind set. …Victory.

Callie signals for another fastball, this one on the outside, and she shifts slightly to her right. Blue eyes and brown connect and Torres can see the embroidered 'USA' on Arizona's chest rise and fall as her pitcher takes a deep breath. The infield steps forward on their toes and the outfield readies themselves. The runners dig their cleats into the soft ground, trying to find something to push off on. Everyone ceases to breathe in that moment.

Arizona winds up, pushing off her mound with force, and lets the ball fly. It's right on target, and the Japanese batter was waiting for it. The loud crack of a bat making contact echoes through the air and the runners immediately take off. Callie is out of her squat in an instant, ripping her mask off and tracking the ball. All eyes watch the ball sail, their third out. Their gold medal. It sails high in the sky, deep into right.

Miranda Bailey sprints as fast as she can while April Kepner's eyes go wide. Instincts kick in and she starts to move, tracking the ball and knowing nothing else. Her cleats slip under the slick grass, but she pushes through. The ball reaches its peak and starts to fall. The redhead angles herself to intercept it, all eyes on her.

"Get it…" Arizona whispers, oblivious to the runner that was on second now rounding third.

The ball sinks lower and lower in the sky, seemingly pushing itself further and further from Aprils reach. At the last second, the US player goes horizontal, pushing off the ground and getting air as she reaches out as far as she can go. …And she falls.

Everyone waits. Everyone watches.

Slowly, April rolls over and lifts her glove. A glint of yellow visible through the web.

"Out!" The umpire calls.

The stadium explodes. The crowd cheers and the US bench empties, players on the field jumping and yelling and throwing their gloves up in celebration. Music rips through the air and confetti falls from somewhere.

Callie, still standing in shock at home plate, is nearly tackled to the ground with Arizona runs up and jumps into her arms, the Latina easily supporting the blonde's weight.

"We did it." Arizona says in her ear, barely audible over the roar of everyone else around them.

"We did it." Callie replies, and doesn't think twice about kissing Arizona soundly on the lips.

They're broken up when the rest of their team surrounds them, a huge dog pile forming as they celebrate their epic victory. Kepner is the target of more than one tight hugs, the small and nervous redhead not believing that it was her out that synched the game. Some of the players find a couple tubs of Gatorade and soon all four ecstatic coaches are drenched in the drink, but none even attempt to play like they are upset. It's complete and utter chaos out on the field, and USA wouldn't have it any other way.

But their initial celebration has to be reeled in when they have to say their thanks to Japan while the stage gets wheeled out onto the field. The entire US team, even a wobbly Erica Hahn, steps up on the stage, their cheeks on fire from how hard they are smiling.

Japan is given their silver medals first, a presenter shaking each players hand and giving their congratulations before turning to the Americans. Callie and Arizona wait patiently in their line, catching each other's nervous gaze and discreetly holding hands.

One by one, each America player bows forward to receive their medal, the weight of the gold being a physical acknowledgement of their achievement. Reactions vary, from April who immediately bursts into tears, to Cristina who holds her medal up and starts to inspect it, to Erica who just smiles.

Callie receives her medal first, Arizona watching her captain lean forward and dip her head as the ribbon is placed around her neck, and a swell of pride hits her. This woman, this amazing woman, picked her.

When Torres straightens she immediately looks to her blonde and finds Arizona staring at her. Plump lips mouth 'your turn' and Robbins giggles as she leans over to accept her medal.

Each player is announced as their medals are given, and each player waves to the crowd as it applauds them, thanking not just USA but all the teams for their hard work, determination, and competitive spirit.

Finally, when the last America player has a shiny gold medal around their neck, the air fills with music and the announcer say of the PA, "Ladies and Gentlemen, the national anthem of the United States of America." An American Flag lowers from the stadium canopy, the Japan flag hung slightly lower, and all eyes turn to face them.

Hands and hats cover hearts of American country men, and the US team sings along with their anthem. It all comes crashing down on Arizona at this moment, everything she's worked for, all that she left just to be at this point right here, …the last time she really heard the national anthem. The last time she saw an American flag. It's all too much to keep in any longer and soon tears are mixing with the still falling rain.

Callie notices the soft singing voice next to her stop and when she glances over to Arizona she sees the blonde's lower lip trembling as the woman silently cries. Brown eyes turn back to the American Flag, Torres never missing a note, and places her left hand at the small of the pitcher's back just so Arizona knows she's not alone.

The anthem fades out but that's not the end of it. Pictures and autographs, more celebrating and some popped champagne bottles come into the mix. It's crazy and hectic, but the US won. It's their celebration. The months long trip, years and years for some, has finally paid off. Coaches get hugs from everyone, and some even go back for seconds. Lexie Grey shuts everyone up when she pulls Mark down by his face and plants a passionate kiss on his lips, only to get cheered on as that kiss continues past PG.

When the Latina looses track of Arizona in the mix, she looks around the field and finds the wet blonde standing at home plate, staring out across the field. She shuffles towards the woman, silently standing next to her until playfully hip checking Arizona, earning her a soft hip check back.

"It's over." Arizona says. It's not sad, or depressing, but more of a statement. Like it's just hit her.

"Yep. It is." Callie replies. "Feels kind of… strange, doesn't it? I mean, we've all had this as our goal for so long and new we've reached it."

A beat passes, the two of them watching their team make fools of themselves, and the Arizona asks, "Now what do we do?"

Plump lips slowly pull into a smile and dark brown eyes turn to find the blonde's gaze, and Callie says "Now, we celebrate."

* * *

AN2: Did you survive? Honestly I didn't plan for this chapter to be so long but… oh well. Next up, celebration and everything that comes after. I'm thinking two, maybe three chapters then it's a wrap. If you feel like it, please leave me feedback. I love hearing what you all have to think! Thanks.


	30. Chapter 30

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: Sorry for the wait, but work has been seriously kicking my ass. I'm on 'vacation' next week so I don't know how much writing I will be able to get done. It's crazy to think now that when I started this fic, I was going to have it done by the end of the summer Olympics. Yeah… right. Anyways, as always, thanks for sticking it out with me. And Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 30

The high of USA's gold medal win over Japan gets carried out of the field and into the athletes' apartments. As the girls walk through the masses, their newly acquired hardware on display around their necks, five highs are given and shouts of congratulations are said by complete strangers. Fellow USA athletes personally congratulate the softball players, and some even pose for pictures. Cheeks are on fire from smiling so hard and so long, but no one is complaining. It's a beautiful pain.

The girls break after agreeing to meet up in an hour so that they can celebrate the right way. Showers are hastily taken and real 'going out' make up is applied for the first time since touching English soil. Everyone packed one outfit, their party outfit, just for this occasion. And now they get to use it.

Callie Torres is hopping up and down, trying to shimmy into her skin tight jeans when a dolled up redhead peeks into her room.

"Ooo…" Addison sings. "Matching underwear _and _you shaved your legs? Someone's having sex tonight."

Dark eyes flash up to her friend before carefully pulling her top over raven hair. "Please… I could be wearing granny panties and have a small forest growing from my legs and I'd _still _be able to get laid." Callie plays.

"Ah, so…." The redhead muses. "You're giving Robbins the 'gold medal' treatment?"

Addison laughs at her own joke while Callie just stares at her. The next minute a damp and towel clad Arizona steps out of the sauna like bathroom and tiptoes past Montgomery. Torres's throat goes dry at the sight, the two of them having been practicing 'less is more' rule about cursory nakedness, and she suddenly becomes very hot. She finds herself tracking a single drop of water, starting at the crown of the blonde's forehead and snaking down a dimpled cheek, under the curve of Arizona's neck, and straight on through between the woman's northern mountains.

"Cal!" Addison barks, making the Latina jump.

Tearing her eyes away from her pitcher, she asks "Huh?"

"Did you just hear what I said?" The redhead asks, giving her friend a knowing smile.

"Um, no." Callie answers, another wave of heat rushing to her cheeks when Arizona giggles.

"I said, let's go downstairs. There were a couple hot swimmers that were giving me the eye as we came up." Montgomery says, tousling her hair. "If you get sex tonight, I get sex tonight." Addison turns on her very high heels and heads towards the front door, leaving the two women alone in their room.

Callie grabs her clutch and chances a look to the still towel wearing blonde and meets bright blue eyes. "So um, I'll just-"

"You're having sex tonight?" Arizona asks with a glint in her eyes.

"No." Callie answers quickly, then at the slight head tilt from her roommate, she corrects herself. "Well… ye- I don't know. Maybe. I mean, I wasn't planning on it."

"No?" Robbins plays, just toying with the woman.

"Ok well, maybe I planned- I wasn't counting on the- I didn't want to assume that- you know, it's funny…" Callie can feel herself digging herself deeper and deeper into a hole, no matter how much she tries to climb out. Thankfully Arizona closes the small distance between them and lays her soft pink lips against the Latina's juicy ones. A kiss so soft and sweet, a lovely trick designed by nature, to stop words when speech becomes superfluous.

"Here's a hint, Calliope…" Arizona whispers, pulling away just enough to speak. "I shaved my legs too." With one more kiss, the blonde nudges Callie towards the open door and their waiting friend. A dazzling smile appears on Torres's face, one that rivals the gold medal resting against her chest, and she begrudgingly leaves Arizona to go play wingman for a horny Addison Montgomery.

* * *

"Raise em up, ladies! Come on!" Teddy exclaims, raising her glass into the air to join the mass. Alcohol filled shot glasses, martini glasses, and beer bottles clink as USA toasts to their victory. Music pounds all around them, and the club they have ended up in is packed full of people. But all eyes turned to the stream of women who entered not twenty minutes ago, each with a shiny gold medal proudly on display around their necks. Now they are clustered around a small group of tables in one of the corners, marking the end of their _very _long journey with a team toast.

Everyone takes a drink, both Meredith and Cristina knocking back a full shot of the fiercest tequila they could get, and then Arizona adds, "And to our fearless leaders…"

"Here, here!" Addison agrees. "To Callie and Teddy!" Another toast, another round of clinking glasses and bottles, and another drag of sweet poison runs down each player's throat.

"Ok." Yang announces. "I've spent every second with you women for the past hundred years. I need a break." The woman quickly shoots back her third shot in as many minutes, then turns to her person and says, "Mer, dance floor. Now." The twisted sisters, along with a handful of other teammates, all disappear into the moving sea of people out on the large dance floor while the rest hang back at the tables and just relax.

Minutes turn into hours, all the while the alcohol flowing with the aid of their little tokens hung around their necks, and everyone is having a good time. Most of the team has scattered, some dancing with random and unknown guys, some off at the bar doing hardcore drinking, while others remain at the back tables. Erica is chatting up a very friendly woman who could be a twin of both Callie and the blonde's little Brazilian one night stand.

"She's got game…" Arizona muses, nodding towards her ex-catcher when Callie gives her a confused look. "Hahn may be a newborn, but she makes up for it with raw talent."

"Newborn? What's a newborn?" Teddy asks, nearly having to yell over the music. She turns in the direction both Arizona and Callie and looking and see's Hahn sitting a little too close to another woman than would be socially acceptable. "Wait, is Erica gay?! When did that happen?"

"You didn't know?" Addison questions her roommate.

"You did?" Teddy rebuttals. "Why am I the last to know everything? God, my gaydar sucks."

"You pegged me pretty quickly there, Teds." Arizona states, giving her friend a playful wink.

"Well, that's because I caught you gawking at- OW!" The first baseman's words are cut off when a heeled foot connects with her shin, blue eyes sending a death glare across the table as a warning to keep Teddy's mouth shut.

But Callie hasn't missed this interchange and immediately becomes interested. "Gawking? You were gawking? Who were you gawking at?" She asks, turning her dark, inquisitive eyes to the now blushing blonde seated next to her. Arizona fidgets in her chair a bit, suddenly finding the dance floor riveting, and Torres tries again. "Come on, Battleship. Who were you gawking at…" A tanned finger finds its way to the blonde's sensitive side and a squeak spills from pink lips.

"I… No one." Arizona answers quickly. "I was… You. Ok? It was-"

"No it wasn't." Teddy interjects, now out for vengeance for the nice bruise she will be sporting tomorrow.

"Arizona…" Callie drawls.

A deep sigh leaves the pitcher's body and Arizona realizes that she's not going to get out of this. Taking a sip of her dry martini, she clears her throat and answers. "Um well, it was uhh… Addison." Addison, who was in the middle of taking a drink from her vodka tonic, spews her drink in shock, sending tiny droplets of vodka flying in air towards the sea of dancing people.

"Me?" Addison gasps between coughs.

"Her?" Callie asks in amusement.

"What?!" Arizona yelps, by now a nice warmth flowing through her body from the few drinks she's had. "She's hot! Actually, you know what? Remember when we ran Stadium my first day on the team? And I fell and got that nasty cut? It was because I was staring at her ass. I missed a step and busted my ass because I was watching hers."

"You thought I was gay?" Addison asks, mopping up her mess with a stray cocktail napkin.

"No…" Arizona replies, obviously leaving something off of her answer. "But just because I can't go into the store doesn't mean I can't window shop."

A pregnant pause passes, the three other women each glancing at one another, and then Callie says, "That's a _terrible _metaphor."

"So when did you abandon the Monty Train and jump aboard the Torres Express?" Teddy asks, her words slurring just enough to know that she is well into her fourth drink of the night.

"That one's not any better." Callie murmurs while the other three laugh their asses off.

Arizona playful nudges the Latina next to her, but replies with, "Who says I can't ride both?" The blonde sends a flirtatious wink to the slack jawed redhead next to her, giggling when a bright red blush appears on Addison's face.

"Well, this train…" The redhead drawls, gesturing up and down her long body, which just so happens to be wrapped up deliciously in very form fitting dress. "…Doesn't stop at _your_ station."

"Hmm… it would if I were the conductor." Robbins plays, getting a snort of contention from Montgomery. "What? You saying you don't think I could get you to flip? Because I could, baby." The alcohol in the blonde's system has her running hot. …And bold. Blue eyes glance over to the Latina next to her, finding only an amused grin, so Arizona decides it's time to play a little chicken.

Carefully getting out of her seat, Arizona stalks around the table to her friend, Addison's eyes growing wider with each step. "Have you ever felt the way a woman's body moves against yours? The way their fingers trace your skin like it was their own?" Maybe it's the drinks, or the fact that Addison has been without sex for nearly three weeks now, but she can't seem to pull her eyes away from the blonde.

Once Arizona is standing directly in front of the redhead, she hikes the bottom of her dress up just a bit so Arizona can straddle Addison's lap. Long, toned arms snake over the redhead's shoulder, finger lacing together and coming to rest on the back of her neck.

"How their tongue knows the perfect places to taste and lips to play." Arizona husks, her lips barely two inches from Addison's and the blonde's warm, martini tainted breath washes over the redhead's face with each whispered word. "And when it happens… oh, baby, when it happens… it hits you like a god… damn… freight train." Green eyes stare right into blue and Addison finds herself breathing hard, her body on fire and heart pounding.

Fingers around the back of her neck flex and Addison feels her center react. She doesn't know what's happening, but when Arizona starts to lean in, the redhead doesn't pull away. Instead, Addison finds herself mirroring the blonde's movement, leaning in to a kiss she never dreamed of. Lips are a fraction of an inch from meeting, both eyes closing in anticipation, but when Addison closes the last ten percent she comes up with nothing.

Addison's eyes snap open and find a devilish smirk staring back at her.

Knowing she had the woman dead center in her snares, Arizona whispers, "Just wanted to prove a point…" Green eyes narrow as all of this hits the redhead while the blonde climbs off her teammates lap and stands.

"Now that my job is done…" Arizona turns to Callie and says, "Calliope, dance with me." She doesn't wait for a yes, instead she grabs a tanned hand and pulls a slack jawed Torres out onto the dance floor.

Addison has barely regained brain function as she watches the couple leave and she tries to clear the fog by downing the rest of her vodka tonic. She's always thought she was straight. Straight as an arrow, but then why did her body respond the way it did to another woman?

"I need to get laid." Addison groans to herself, deciding to chalk all this up to the fact that she's just horny.

When aroused green eyes turn to her friend, Teddy, having had watched the entire encounter in silence from the sidelines, simply states "I like penis."

* * *

Water rushes down its porcelain drain as Callie steps out of her stall and walks up to the sink. The booming of the music from outside the restroom makes the walls vibrate, occasionally intensifying when the bathroom door swings open and shut. The Latina is slightly tipsy, having gone easy on the drinks after the first couple rounds early in the night, and she can feel her exhaustion seeping into her body. Today was a big day. …A huge day. One that replays with perfect recall when dark eyes flash up to the mirror over the sink and immediately find the heavy medal dangling in front of her breasts.

The door swings open again and Callie is too immersed in her recent memory to glance at the approaching blonde in the mirrors reflection. Only when soft hands grip her waist does Callie come back from dreamland.

"Hey pretty lady…" Arizona purrs into the taller woman's ear.

Torres turns to face her pitcher, and leans back against the counter. "That was a pretty mean thing you did back there to Addison." Callie plays.

"Big Red can handle it." The blonde rebuffs with a shrug. "Besides, I had a point to make."

"And that point is that you could get any woman you wanted?" The captain muses, though not really doubting it. She can't help herself as she gives Robbins a quick cruise, amazingly long legs on full display tonight, made even longer by the heels Arizona decided to wear.

"I could…" Arizona replies lightly. "But I choose to stay away from anything too messy. …Well, besides Noel."

"Noel?" Callie asks. "Noel doesn't sound like a gay girl name."

"Well she was that night." The blonde states confidently, stepping between the Latina's parted legs and gripping her loose blouse with both hands. "Does it make you jealous thinking about me with other women, Calliope?" She doesn't ask in a way that would spur the woman on, but in a soft and loving way, wondering if Callie is hurt by it.

"…No." Torres answers stiffly, her shoulders arching in on themselves without her knowing it. Almost like she's trying to protect herself from those types of thoughts.

"You sure?" Robbins asks with a smile, slightly tugging at the woman's shirt. "Because I kinda like 'jealous Callie'. She's really hot."

The two are so wrapped up in one another that they don't pay attention to the steady stream of women floating in and out of the restroom, nor the dozen sets of eyes that give them, and their gold medals, looks. Sure, their Games are done, but they are still USA delegates and are supposed to behave as such. There are not many things worse than earning your country a gold medal only to make a fool of it the night of their victory.

But neither Arizona or Callie are worried about that, and with a smile Callie asks "You always try to pick up chicks in dirty bar bathrooms?"

Blue eyes scrunch up in concentration and Arizona answers, "Nope. You're my first."

"So then what is the usual Robbins shtick? What does Arizona Robbins do that makes women melt in their panties?" Torres asks, trying to ignore the heat that has slowly risen within her from the blonde being in such close quarters with her. It was some sort of unspoken agreement between them that they wouldn't push their relationship to the next level until after competition was all over. But now the competition is over and there is no invisible boundary anymore.

"Well… I usually have to bat them away from me but, if there is a stubborn one I just make eye contact from across the room." Arizona whispers, leaning in a bit closer and staring Callie right in the eye. "Then I flash her a smile." A single dimple appears as the blonde pulls up the right side of her mouth in a cute, lopsided grin. "Then I… casually flip my hair." The pitcher effortlessly brushes her soft and golden locks over her shoulder, a wave of her vanilla-coconut scented shampoo hitting Callie square in the face and making her slightly light headed.

"And then?" Torres asks, her voice much deeper and raspier than she had planned.

"And if all that doesn't work, I'd pull out something like…" Blue eyes flick down to the full, juicy lips just in front of her, and then move back up to nearly black orbs above. "My gold medal looks like a dull penny compared to your smile." She adds another level of heat when Arizona lifts her hand to cup Callie's face, her thumb tracing the curve of the Latina's chin and brushing over the soft flesh of her lips. "Or… you remind me of my pinky toe. …Before the night is over I'm going to bang you on my coffee table."

"And that works?" Callie asks in disbelief.

"It does when I top it off with this." Arizona whispers, then closes the few inches between them and finally kisses Callie the way she's wanted to kiss the woman all night. A tongue snakes out and teases the Latina's lips, allowing Torres to taste the slight hint of martini still lingering, while Arizona pulls her body flush with the other woman's. Fingers tickle the tanned flesh at the nape of Callie's neck and a soft moan rattle around the blonde's throat before spilling out for Torres to swallow it.

When breathing becomes a necessity, Arizona pulls away and asks, "Is it working?"

Callie licks her lips, still tasting the blonde on her, and weakly replies, "No…"

A small smile crosses the blonde's face because she knows exactly what that kiss did to Callie, it did it to Arizona herself, and she asks, "Wanna get out of here?" The Latina doesn't even waste the time to respond; instead she takes the blonde's hand in hers and quickly leads them out of the bathroom and through the mass of people in the club.

They make their way back to the table in record time, only making the detour to collect their handbags, and find Teddy Altman and Cristina Yang deep into some sort of drunken conversation. Barely sparing a second, Torres places a hand on her inebriated roommate's shoulder and says "Find somewhere else to sleep tonight. And make sure Addison doesn't end up in some Russian beet farmer's bed." Without another word, Callie tugs Arizona after her and the two make a beeline for the exit. …And towards whatever awaits them once they get back to their room.

* * *

"Hey! USA!" Some unknown man shouts as Callie and Arizona step into the elevator carriage, sending him a polite wave as the doors close.

"These things are awesome." Arizona muses, playing with the heavy medal around her neck. "Probably chick magnets too." When Torres spares a glance to the blonde next to her, Robbins starts to make her medal shake and then moves it quickly over to touch the Latina's arm, as if it were physically pulled in by Callie's presence. "Yep, definitely chick magnets."

Dark eyes roll as a deep chuckle echoes off the elevator walls, Arizona melting into Torres's side. "Wow… you sure are on your game tonight, aren't you?"

"What can I say? I'm a lady-lovin lady. …And it just so happens that the ladies love me back." Robbins states, teasing her catcher by sucking on a soft and fleshy earlobe.

The elevator halts at their floor and the doors open, a group of men patiently waiting on the other side receiving a nice little gift for their imaginations. Arizona takes Torres's hand and slips past the group, winking at them playfully as they go, and they start the long trek down to their apartment. But twenty feet down from the elevator, Callie is brought to a halt when Arizona stops midstride.

"God, my feet…" Arizona groans, using the taller woman next to her for balance as she removes one high heel, then the other. "These shoes always make me crippled."

"Why'd you wear them then?" Callie asks, using this as an excuse to find a grip on the blonde's waist.

"Because…" The pitcher purrs, her blue eyes locking with brown and moving even closer into their embrace. "They make my legs look delicious. …And I just _know _you're a leg girl." By now long and lean arms have wrapped themselves around Callie's neck and the Latina has both hands on the smaller woman's hips. "Tell me I'm wrong…." Arizona challenges when all Callie can do is smile.

"You're not wrong. I _very _much appreciated the sight of you in those heels." Callie murmurs, her hands grazing up and down the blonde's sides. "Even if they did leave you crippled." Their lips meet in a soft and sensual kiss, Arizona tugging Callie down harder against her while the Latina's hands ache to feel naked flesh under her touch.

A shout of some excited athlete from somewhere else on the floor breaks the two apart and Callie groans, "I need to get you behind a locked door. Now."

Dimples appear and Arizona readily agrees, but as she goes to take a step she flinches and whines, "My feet…" Not letting the blonde's inability to move slow her down, Callie quickly improvises and turns her back to Arizona.

"Hop on, baby." Torres purrs, sending Arizona a sly look over her shoulder. The pitcher just giggles, but then shimmies her dress up a bit and climbs onto Callie's back, the Latina easily carrying the extra woman's weight and she turns in the direction of their waiting room. …And bed.

* * *

"Oh… my… god…" A deep, breathless voice groans. Strong hands massage at tender feet and Arizona moans again as Callie works her magic on the blonde's sore soles. The Latina smiles as she hears what she does to the woman, and it makes her body tingle. Those sounds bring back a memory from just under a week ago, one that involved the two parties in the room… and a lot less clothes.

"Sweet mother of…" Arizona moans, her entire body arching in response to her catcher's ministrations.

"Calliope is just fine." Callie plays, her eyes glued on the body stretched out lazily across the joined mattresses in front of her. With a kiss to the tip of Arizona's big toe, the Latina crawls up along the blonde's body and rests atop the other woman. Their lips meet and the kiss that starts out as slow quickly heats up to anything but chaste.

Callie pulls away and stares down into dark blue eyes, and whispers "You're not going to run away again, are you?"

"No…" Arizona replies, those soulful brown eyes looking down at her causing her entire body to ache. And not just with desire, but for something she hasn't felt in a long time. But even this is different. When she felt it before, with her ex-girlfriends, this feeling is multiplied by ten.

"I'm not." The blonde adds, a single finger tracing the curve of the Latina's cheek. "I'm done running away." She pulls the other woman down for another kiss, one promising more than words can say.

Caramel hands start to make slow progress up long, strong legs, Callie memorizing every inch of smooth flesh she meets. Tongues dance and lips clash, all need to contain themselves thrown out the window now the competition is over with. The weeks and months of pent up desire finally coming to a head and Arizona doesn't seem to be able to think straight.

When stars start to appear behind closed eyes, Callie pulls away and asks, "You ok?"

"This dress…" Arizona growls, "I need it off. Now." Torres doesn't need to be told twice and immediately sits up on her knees to rid the blonde of her constricting dress. Soon all that is left is a red lace bra, a matching thong an amount of material equivalent to dental floss, and her vibrant butterfly tattoo painted over her shoulder. The sight of those pert constrained breasts rising and falling with each ragged breath makes Callie's throat go dry.

"Are _you _ok, Boss?" The blonde asks when all Callie can do is stare at her. The Latina nods weakly, trying to find her voice, and Arizona takes advantage of the woman's speechlessness by sitting up and taking hold of the bottom of her shirt. It's up and over Torres's head in a blink of an eye and pink lips are a centimeter away from Callie's the next.

"Remember to breathe, Calliope." Arizona says playfully, a smile pulling at the catcher's lips.

The next five minutes are comprised of even more furious kissing at the removal of pants so tight that Arizona is sure Callie's feet are about to fall off. Shaking and trembling fingers carefully pull a fire engine red thong down long legs, Torres licking her lips as she see's Arizona's arousal coating her thighs. When Arizona rolls the Latina on her back, the blonde's tongue quickly seeks out a hardened nipple and sucks it up into her mouth. A moan that would send even the pope to his knees comes falling from plump lips as Callie's body reacts to the surgeon's skilled lips, tongue and fingers.

Leaving a trail of wet kisses down a tanned neck, between delicious breasts and traversing the great expanse of caramel flesh just barely dimpling from strong abs that lie beneath, pearly white teeth nip at Callie's black lacy panties. Long legs are spread out for the blonde's access and Arizona dips her nose against the Latina's covered center, breathing in the woman's scent and setting every nerve ending on fire.

Curvy hips lift from the mattress and Arizona quickly discards the now ruined underwear from the Latina's core, tossing them with the rest of the heap of clothes now scattered all over the floor. Blue eyes look up the long body of her catcher's and connect with dark brown eyes, full lips parted slightly as Callie waits for that first touch. And when it happens, when the blonde's tongue slips out from her mouth and tastes the woman's sex, Callie feels as if she has been shot straight through the roof.

A strong hand fists in blonde hair as Callie's hips grind against a skilled mouth, and she's sure she's about to die when two long fingers slip inside her depths. Moans and cries not often heard outside of an adult theater ricochet around the room and cause those passing their apartment door stop and listen. Liquid arousal pours down Arizona's throat and she's sure that this is how she wants to die. Right here, between this gorgeous woman's legs, drinking down every drop of sex she's got.

"Arizona…" Callie gasps, a tightness pulling at her stomach. "Oh god, please…" She tugs at the golden locks in her grasp and Arizona has to force herself to leave the woman's center, crawling up the sweaty and writhing body to claim plump lips with hers.

The taste of herself on the blonde's lips elicits a groan, one which gets swallowed up by the surgeon as she continues her rhythm within the Latina's core. Fingernails dig almost painfully into Arizona's fair back as Callie hangs on for dear life. The small whimpers and sounds the captain makes as she tries to contain herself hit the blonde full force, amping up her desire to a whole other level. To know that she is the one causing these noises and sounds, that it's because of her that this breathtakingly stunning woman is unable to control herself is mind blowing.

'Wait… wait…" Callie gasps, the blonde stilling immediately on top of her.

"What? Did I hurt you?" Arizona asks, the roughness and tenderness of her voice making the Latina smile.

"No. No, of course not." Torres replies in a whisper, gently kissing pink lips hovering above her. Then, the next second, hooks a leg around the pitcher's knee and pushes on her painted shoulder, flipping them so Arizona lands on her back with a thud. Callie straddles one of the blonde's legs while wrapping the other around her waist, bringing their slick and aroused center's together.

"Shi…" Arizona groans at the contact, swearing she can feel Callie pulse against her bundle of nerves. Strong arms plant themselves on either side of blonde hair and the Latina starts to thrust, two bodies moving in time with one another's and sending them closer and closer to their release.

"You feel so good, Arizona." Callie moans, a drop of sweat trailing down her forehead, in front of her ear and beading along her neck.

And as Arizona feels her orgasm approaching, she pulls the Latina down by the back of her neck and welcomes Callie's tongue into her depths. The body beneath Torres tenses, legs quaking and muscles contracting, as Arizona's release hits her full force. Hips buck against the catcher's, sending Callie over the edge as well. Wave after wave of warmth wash over them until it finally passes, leaving them weak and spent and gasping for air.

Callie rests atop a sweaty blonde as she tries to catch her breath, smiling as she hears Arizona's heart pound within her chest. After a minute, a shaky hand runs through raven hair and Torres looks up to find blue eyes sparkling with happiness.

"Ready for round two?" She asks, sending a shiver down the surgeons spine from the roughness of her voice. And without another word they continue their night of passion, neither of them wanting to voice that it's not just sex… but love-making.

* * *

"Wow…" A tired and breathless voice sighs. "That was… well, I don't have much prior experience to go off of but I'd say that was pretty good, right?"

"Very good." Arizona replies, snuggling in closer to the Latina's arms. The two women are naked and tangled in the bed sheets, still coming down off their high after many many rounds of pleasure. Just the glow of a partially hidden moon is cascading in through the bedroom window, giving an eerie blue tint to everything. But even in the lowlight, Arizona is sure that there has never been a more beautiful sight as the woman lying next to her right now.

"They should give out medals in _that._" Torres says, "Then we'd have _two _golds."

"You're such a dork." The blonde murmurs, but giggles anyways. A fair finger teases around a brown nipple, smiling when she watches it constrict and harden under her touch.

They lay like that, a caramel arm wrapped around Arizona's body and the blonde's head nestled into the Latina's shoulder, for a few minutes. Completely content on just being with one another and not saying anything. Because sometimes there's nothing to say. Sometimes silence expresses more than words. But in silence comes thoughts, and Callie can't keep herself from replaying the events of tonight through her mind.

"Do you still have a thing for Addison?" Callie asks, the words falling from her lips before she even feels herself forming the thought.

Arizona's finger stills from tracing invisible patterns along tanned flesh, and she pulls her head back enough to find dark brown eyes. "What?"

"I just… tonight, at the club. You seemed pretty into her." Torres states, feeling a little silly for getting jealous like this, especially after the amazing, mind blowing, earth shattering sex they had just had. During which the only name on the blonde's mind was Callie, and no one else.

"I was messing with her, Calliope." Arizona tells her, pecking naked, plump lips to reassure the Latina. "You're the only one I have my eye on. …You're the only one who even catches my eye anymore." When a small smile forms on Callie's face, Arizona nestles back into the captain's arms. "Besides… that would be too messy."

"What do you mean 'messy'?" The catcher asks, knowing that she should stop while she's ahead but can't seem to help herself when it comes to talking with the blonde.

"Well, you know…" Arizona sighs, pulling away from the naked woman and rolling on her back. "She's straight, for one. She's married. Well, she's divorcing. And even if she _did _take a vacation in lesbian land, she'd be a newborn. And I just don't… I don't do newborns. Too messy."

The weight of her pitcher's words land heavily on Callie's chest, and she sits up to look down on the blonde. "You know you just described _me, _right?"

"Callie-"

"No, Arizona. You did." Torres states. "Straight, was married. Divorced. I'm a, a, a newborn. So… forgive me for becoming suspicious but… what are you doing with me, Arizona? Because, from what you just said, you wouldn't come near me with a ten foot pole."

A hand run roughly down the blonde's face and Arizona silently curses herself for having said anything at all. "I didn't say that." She groans.

"Um, a little bit, you did." Callie replies harshly. She waits for a response, but ten seconds pass and all Arizona does is stare at the ceiling. Torres bites her lip and rolls out of bed. "I _cannot_ believe this is happening again. I thought… after what we just did?... I'm a god damn idiot." She makes it to her feet, intent on finding her clothes and getting out of the room before she breaks down, but a hand grasps at her wrist.

"Calliope, just… wait. Let me explain, ok?" Blue eyes plead for the Latina to face her, but Callie keeps her back to the woman. "Please?" A beat passes and finally Torres takes a seat on the mattress, Robbins taking that as a sign to continue.

"I… You're right. You're the type of woman that would… that would make me run for the hills." Arizona says, still trying to put all her feelings into words. "And yeah, it's messy. You were married, you're a divorcee. Your family? Well… I've met _sharks _that are nicer than your father but… You're worth it, Calliope. You're worth it to me, because…. I don't know. I just feel… complete when I'm with you. Because every time I see you, my heart does this weird thing that I don't really know how to explain. So yeah, you're messy. But you're worth the mess."

Callie feels all her fight leave her body and chances a glance over her shoulder, finding bright blue eyes, lit up by the moonlight, staring at her.

"You know that, right?" Arizona asks softly, resting her chin on the woman's bare shoulder. "People with the biggest hearts usually are the ones to suffer the most. You've been hurt, Calliope. By your husband, by your father. …By me. But, you need to know that you… you're worth everything and more."

Fighting the tear that is threatening to fall, Callie tries to play it off by saying, "Bet you say that to all the girls."

Arizona chuckles lightly while brushing a lock of hair behind the woman's ear, and whispers, "No. …You're the exception, Calliope. You've always been the exception." When she sees the start of a smile, the blonde leans in and lightly touches her lips against that sweet spot right behind the Latina's ear, where the neck and the head meet at a point filled with nerve endings.

"You're messy too, you know." Torres mumbles, her fingers picking at the sheets below her.

"I know, Calliope. ….I know." Milky white arms wrap around the catcher and Arizona hugs Callie tight, her nose buried into the mess of raven hair as she breathes in the scent that is so uniquely Calliope Torres.

After a pregnant pause, Arizona asks "You don't still consider yourself straight, do you?" Torres glances over her shoulder, finding blue eyes staring at her. "Because… I'm pretty sure what you just did to me makes you anything _but _straight." The tension lifts a bit as the two chuckle and Arizona finally gets Callie back in bed.

Bodies mold together again, the chill of the room having had its effect on their naked flesh and creating a layer of goose bumps over the women. Arizona pulls the blankets around them tighter and burrows into the heat of Callie's body, one leg weaved lazily between caramel limbs below. With a clap of thunder, a flash of lightening following right after and shadowing the room, the two women drift off to sleep as the just starting rain plinks against their window.

* * *

AN2: You know what to do! Thanks!


	31. Chapter 31

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 31

The end of competition for Callie and Arizona signaled the beginning of something else. That night, after winning gold and celebrating with their team only to end up back in their room tangled in the sheets and sleeping in each other's arms was just the start. The days following were spent by taking leisurely jogs together in the mornings, while in the afternoons the couple took in some other sporting events. At nights they would either venture out into the city again, or just get dinner and bring it back up to their room where they would spend the waning hours with little to no clothes on.

It was right. It was perfect. Neither Arizona nor Callie could imagine spending that time any differently. It fascinated the catcher how easily their two bodies meshed, and how quickly she had become accustomed to how Arizona moved against her as they slept. The mornings she woke to feel the blonde teasing her flesh, tracing invisible patterns along her arms, her chest, her naked back… those make up most of her favorite memories.

As they walk around the Olympic Village and the rest of the athlete buildings, they are often asked for autographs and photos. Apparently the whole 'scandal' wasn't just USA based, but Olympic wide. Of course there are other gay athletes, some even dating each other. But there hasn't been the breaking news of a relationship yet, which heralds so much more juicy gossip than anything else going on. Arizona takes it all with a smile, having been out for years and years already. But for Callie, it's a bit more difficult. She's barely come to terms with it herself, then her father all but disowned her, and now the rest of the world heralds her as a 'leading lesbian'? It's a bit much to take in.

To add insult to injury, during one of their trips into town, Callie attempts to withdraw some money from her personal account but finds that it has been emptied. A quick call and she learns that her credit cards have been deactivated and her trust fund evaporated. When her father said he would cut her off, he wasn't kidding. It's only the per diem she gets from being on the Team that ensures she has enough to eat and make it through day by day. All the while, Arizona supplies a comforting shoulder. There's nothing else she can think of to do because Arizona doesn't know what it's like to have… thousands? Hundreds of thousands? Millions, possibly?... taken away from her.

The night before closing ceremonies, Callie's phone drops from her ear and she groans, "Not even Aria is picking up. God, I knew my father was powerful but I didn't think he could do this…"

Arizona just sits next to her catcher, wanting to say something but not really knowing what to offer. "What about your other side of the family? Your Mom's side?"

Torres just shakes her head and answers, "No… My mom's side still lives in Cuba. Besides, my father keeps them fed. There's no way they would go against his word." She falls back against the mattress and stares at the ceiling, eyes closing as she tries to push her headache away. "God, what am I going to do?"

The blonde lies out beside her and props up on an elbow. "We'll figure something out, Calliope. I promise. Everything will work out." A finger traces the curve of the Latina's cheek and brown eyes open to find ocean blue staring down at her.

"How do you know?" Callie whispers.

"I just do." Arizona answers, leaning down and kissing the woman's lips softly. A milky white hand slips under the material of the Latina's shirt, caressing warm caramel flesh beneath. Their embrace starts to heat up, and soon any thoughts besides a naked Arizona leaves Callie's mind as the two of them comfort each other the only way they know how.

* * *

The day following the amazing closing ceremonies, Team USA find themselves on their way back to the states. There is a collective sense of regret about leaving such an amazing city, and such an amazing part of their lives. In that Village, on that dirt, life long memories were forged as well as lifelong friendships. But as with all things, it must come to an end. So with their gold medals hung proudly around their necks, the USA Women's Softball team boards their flight back to the United States of America.

Their trip is quick, and before they know it they are back on American soil. Just a few hours later, Arizona Robbins, Callie Torres, Theodora Altman and Richard Webber are being prepped for their first real 'live' interview since winning.

From the reflection of the mirror in front of her, Arizona watches as Callie nervously chews at her bottom lip. The Latina's foot taps furiously and she is well on her way to causing some major damage to her nails as she unknowingly picks at her fingernails. She can stare down the best pitchers in the world, throw out some of the fastest runners there are as they try to steal second, and can take a hit like a brick shit house, but knowing that Callie freezes up when the cameras start to roll makes Arizona smile.

So when the makeup artist turns her back to the blonde, Arizona stands and grabs Callie's hand, pulling her along after the pitcher as she slips out of the room.

"Where are we going?" Callie asks, only one eye made up so it looks like someone sucker punched the captain. But her pitcher doesn't answer, instead leading the woman around a corner to peek behind a door that has a sign on it reading 'Maintenance'. "Arizona, what's going-" She's cut off when she's roughly pulled through the door and into a dark closet. "Arizona!"

"Shhhh." Arizona hisses, her hands roaming the wall on either side looking for a light switch. Something tickles her scalp and she reaches up to find a string. With a sharp tug, a single light bulb illuminates the small three foot by three foot room.

"What are we doing?" Torres asks in a whisper, smiling when she sees how brightly the blonde's dimples are shining on Arizona's face.

"What do you think we're doing?" She answers, closing the small distance between them and taking freshly painted lips with her own. The lack of privacy for the last 24 hours or so has been grueling for the surgeon, and she's surprised at how much her body yearns for the Latina's touch after just that short amount of time without it.

"They're going to come looking for us." Callie moans, her own body betraying her as her hands instinctively seek purchase on the blonde's shapely behind.

"Guess you'll just have to be quick about this then." Arizona replies, pushing the stronger woman back against the closed door. Deft fingers make quick work of the Latina's zipper, her lips searing a path along a caramel neck. Without wasting a second, the blonde's hand dives under the soft material of Callie's underwear and cup her center.

"Oh!" The captain gasps, her head whipping back out of shock and knocking against the door behind her.

Blue eyes watch as the face in front of her contorts into one of pleasure, a warmth flooding Arizona's body as she continues to work up her catcher with her hand. "You know, Calliope… it's common practice for a surgeon to… _relax _before a stressful surgery." Arizona whispers, her breath washing over the Latina with each passing word. Callie whimpers and grinds against the hand at her core, fingernails digging into the blonde's shoulders when two fingers slide inside her.

"I've done it… many times, I've done it." Arizona continues, a very intense image already forming in Callie's mind. "I find an empty stall. Or an empty room just like this one. And I touch myself. …It feels so good. Doesn't it feel good, Calliope?"

The strong and steady rhythm of fingers pumping in and out of her core make words difficult for her, but Callie is able to answer, "Y-yes…"

"Yeah, baby…" The blonde husks, her eyes dark with arousal. "It feels so good… My fingers driving in an out of me, my body begging for more…" Callie can almost see the picture Arizona is painting for her, the surgeon tucked away in a private corner as she furiously works herself up. The soft moans and gasps that the Latina has become so familiar with over the course of the past week, the scent clinging in the air. …It has her right on the edge.

Arizona can feel the woman start to tighten around her fingers, so she increases her strength and curls her digits as they pull out of Callie, teasing that sweet spot just within reach. "Then my toes start to tingle, and I know I'm so close… the thought of a beautiful woman's tongue on me… in me… taking me in ways only she can…"

"Jesus…" Callie moans.

"…I push deeper… and harder. Until…." With one final thrust, Arizona watches as she sends Callie barreling into her release. Her body tenses and shakes, her core quivering around the blonde's fingers, as Torres rides out her orgasm. If not for the door Arizona has her pushed up against, the captain is sure she would have toppled to the floor from the intensity of her pleasure.

When her muscles unclench, Arizona slowly withdraws from the Latina, eliciting a soft gasp. "Shh shh shh…" Arizona whispers. "It's alright, breathe…" Brown eyes slowly start to focus again as precious oxygen makes its way back into her system, and Callie look up to find her blonde smiling at her. "You still with me, Boss?"

"What… what was that all about?" Callie asks, testing her own legs by pushing off the door. A supporting hand remains on her elbow just in case, and the Latina runs shaky fingers through her hair.

Sucking the woman's juices from her fingers, the surgeon answers, "You were getting nervous. I just wanted to help." A giggle falls from pink lips when Arizona sees a her captain trying to give her a serious look, but that seriousness never quite makes it to brown eyes. So with a quick kiss to warm lips, Arizona says, "Take a minute to straighten yourself up, and I'll see you back in make up," and then the blonde slips back out the door, leaving Callie behind to try and clear the very naughty images from her mind in time to go on air for all of America to see.

* * *

Despite the unpleasant tongue lashing she received from her waiting makeup artist about having to redo her hair and lipstick, Callie finds herself more at ease in front of the little red light than any other time before. She won't allow herself to admit Arizona was right though, in fact, the image of a self pleasuring blonde playing through her mind is anything _but _helpful. Still, those nerves that are always present when it comes to speaking in front of people or cameras have lessened dramatically.

"So, I want to start off by congratulating you and your team, Coach Webber." Their interview states, the man smiling widely under the hot stage lights. "You gave all of America a little scare after those first two losses against Japan, but that last game the ladies really pulled through."

"They sure did." Richard replies with a proud smile.

"Now, Callie… tell us what was going through your mind as you stepped foot on that field for the gold medal game." The man asks, turning his attention to the Latina seated right next to her coach. And just like before, Arizona is on Callie's other side while Teddy is seated on the other side of Webber.

"The same thing as the other players, I'm sure. Mostly it was 'Yes! We actually made it'. And then 'crap, we actually made it'." A chuckle rolls through the group, brown eyes finding blue before Callie turns back to the man interviewing them. "But really, it was… I don't know. I mean, at that point you don't do a lot of thinking. You know what you have to do. Go out there and play your best. Not back down, and try to keep control of the game."

"And it seems that your team did just that." The man states. "Tell me, what was different about this game as opposed to the two previous games against Japan? Were they struggling, or were you ladies just that much more prepared this time around."

"I don't think they were struggling." Teddy answers first. "In fact, I think they were even more on their game than before. Both teams were. You have to be. But… the previous games? Well, the semi final game was, as we all know, won on a terrible call. But it happens. It will always happen. What's the quote… 'To err is human'? So the way I look at it is that we were tied coming into the final game. Sure, they bested us our first meeting." Callie, Arizona and Webber nod along as the first baseman continues. "Their running game was on point, their pitching was excellent. …They were just better. But then the second game, the semi's, came and we won. We did. I firmly believe we won."

"So this gold medal match was, in essence, the tie breaker. 'Best two out of three' sort of situation." The interview muses.

"Exactly." Altman replies firmly. "And we came prepared. We were ready, just like they were. And, well…" Teddy holds up the gold medal hung around her neck, "…we all know who came out on top."

"Indeed we do." The news anchor says. "So what now? After having this goal for so long, what is in store for you Gold Medal Olympians? Callie, are these your last games? Or will you be joining the 2016 team in their trek to Rio?"

"That's uhh… that's something I have yet to decide. But I'm definitely keeping my options open." Torres answers. And it's an honest answer, she doesn't know what she will be doing in the next four years. In fact, she doesn't know what she's going to do once she is released from the team. She has no money, no real home anymore. …So life is looking pretty unstable for her right now.

Turning to the woman who has been silent up to this point, the interviewer continues. "Arizona, your life prior to these games was… well, difficult. Losing your brother as he fought for the same flag you competed under… What does winning this medal mean for you? You were a surgeon before, will you return to medicine?" As soon as the topic shifts, the blonde's stomach hits the floor. This is definitely not something she wants to be discussing on national TV.

Shifting uncomfortably in her chair, the pitcher brushes back a lock of blonde hair and replies, "You know, it's… Softball became an… escape for me. Winning gold was just a plus. Now? I'm not sure. …I'm just going to enjoy each day as it comes and just try to… breathe again." Callie's gaze has been glued to Arizona throughout her answer, the Latina having been wanting to ask the exact same questions for days.

"So, you're not going back to go back to being a surgeon? Can't you take your boards again?" The Latina asks, forgetting that it's not just the two of them. Blue eyes snap to the woman next to her, Arizona not believing that the woman would bring up something so difficult for her on camera like this. They share a heavy gaze, one that is broken when the man interviewing them graciously moves on to the next question.

Within twenty minutes they are off set and back stage, microphones being pulled off them carefully. The rest of the interview went smoothly, if you ignore the obvious tension between the two 'stars', as the news anchor referred to them as.

Arizona is freed first and storms away from her catcher in anger. But Callie is right on the blonde, calling down the long hallway, "Arizona, stop! Wait up, Arizona!" The pitcher doesn't stop and continues to march straight into a women's restroom.

The woman follows, pushing open the door and stepping into the empty room to find a very pissed off blonde. "Arizona, I'm sorry-"

"I can_not _believe you did that." Arizona exclaims, smacking her open palm on the sink countertop.

"I'm sorry." Callie tries again, her voice soft as if she were trying to approach a spooked animal.

"For God's sakes, Callie! You just told all of America that I _failed _my residency boards! You humiliated me!" The pitcher shouts, her face red with anger. "How would you feel if I said your family disowned you? Huh?! That your father dropped you like a damned sack of bricks?" As soon as the words slip past her lips Arizona wishes she could take them back. The blonde watches Callie's face fall in an instant.

"Calliope…" Arizona whispers, the tables having turned in a half second.

"Don't." Callie says, her voice empty of emotion.

"Callie, don't-" The blonde tries again, but the Latina isn't going to hear it. Torres turns on her heels and yanks the bathroom door open. But before she can step through, two arms reach around her and slam it back shut.

"Let me go, Arizona." The captain hisses, trying to muscle the door open but Arizona stays strong. "Arizona! Let me go."

"No." The pitcher answers, shoving the door closed as soon as Callie is able to pry it open a couple inches. The two battle for a few more seconds, but finally the Latina gives up and turns around, coming face to face with her blonde.

Arizona keeps her arms in place, just in case Callie is trying to trick her, and she says, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. …I was upset and angry and it just… I'm sorry, Calliope." A tear leaks from the corner of deep brown eyes and it makes the pitcher's heart ache. One of her hands leave its hold on the door and comes up to wipe the trail of wetness from the Latina's cheek, and Arizona takes a have step forward.

"I'm sorry, Calliope." She whispers again, blue eyes watching as the woman's anger starts to morph into sadness. …Not because Arizona said what she said, but because what Arizona said was true. "I'm sorry, Calliope. I'm so sorry." All the walls Callie had built to keep herself from crumbling and falling apart during the Games start to disintegrate, and she finds herself wrapped up in the blonde's arms, sobbing uncontrollably. And all Arizona can do is hold her tight and ride out the storm.

* * *

The tour bus in which the team spent nearly a month touring the states in pulls up out front of the apartment complex in Oklahoma City. Tonight is the last night they are officially tied to the USA Olympic Team name, and tomorrow most players will start to go their separate ways. Only a few are local, the rest being from all over America, ranging from Washington all the way down to Miami, Florida.

Once the bus is unloaded, the women start to carry their bags back towards their assigned quads so they can start packing up and clearing out. But as Arizona passes through the parking lot, she spots a figure off in a shaded corner. Smoke trickles from the end of a lit cigarette, and a sense of unease starts to pull at the blonde's stomach.

"You alright, Battleship?" Callie asks, coming up behind the frozen women. Arizona gestures towards the figure, sending brown eyes in that direction. Just then, that person steps out of the shadow and both women instantly recognize them.

Only after the rest of the team goes behind closed doors does the person approach the couple, stopping a couple feet in front of them.

"What are you doing here, Amelia?" Callie asks, shifting her heavy bag on her shoulder. "You shouldn't be here. This is still Team USA property for another 12 hours."

"Relax, Cal, I didn't come here to make a scene." Amelia replies, flicking her half smoked cigarette from her fingers. "I actually wanted to talk to you. Both of you. …If you'll let me."

A half hour later, Arizona and Callie find themselves seated at a small table in the same café where the two shared coffee months and months ago. Amelia wanted to go somewhere away from the rest of the team, and her brother. Neither of the players know why she wants to talk to them, but they figure that if the woman was willing to wait as long as she did for them to come back, it must be important.

"So, Shep, what is it?" Callie asks.

"I…" The brunette's anxiety makes her fidget and the woman starts to wring her fingers. "I came here to say I'm sorry."

"You're sorry." Arizona states blankly.

"Yes. I am sorry." Amelia says again. "To both of you. For… for stealing from you, Arizona. And risking your license and… and everything. And Callie, I'm sorry that I put you in the spot that I did. Asking you to do what I asked you to do… it was wrong. And I'm sorry." Callie and the blonde catch each other's gaze for a second before looking back at the addict across from them.

"This is part of one of those '12 step' things, isn't it?" Arizona asks after a minute of silence.

A long sigh falls from Shepard's lips, and she answers, "It's called making amends."

"Right…" The blonde breathes out, crossing her arms across her chest in defiance. "So… this isn't really about me and Callie, is it? It's about you, and checking off the boxes."

"No, it's not about 'checking the boxes'." Amelia groans, a shaky hand rubbing her face roughly. It's been about a month since she's been clean, but those cravings are still there. And right now, her urge to shoot up or pop a pill has increased two fold.

"Oh, so you always apologize to the people you rip off, who you take advantage of?" Arizona asks, her anger towards this woman and what she did coming back with a vengeance. It's one thing to let things go once the source of the problem has been removed, but now that Amelia Shepard is right in front of her, asking for forgiveness… it's a bit harder.

The brunette opens her mouth to answer but Robbins is on a roll and talks over her. "No, seriously, tell me why the hell I should forgive you. And this is _not_ about my prescription pad, or my license. But my brother's photo? Really?! …You took one of the few things I had left of him and you ruined it."

"I can get you a new picture." Amelia tries weakly.

"That's not the point!" Arizona shouts, causing every person in the café to stop what they are doing and look over the three woman.

Startled by her outburst just as much as everyone else, Callie places a gentle hand on the blonde's back in attempts to soothe her. She can feel the muscles in Arizona's back tense for a second but then slowly relax, deep breaths being brought in to her lungs and then pushed back out.

"I know… I know that me saying these things won't take back what I did…" Amelia mumbles after a few silent moments. "…But it's an important step for me. To take responsibility for what I have done and try to make it right."

"And what if I say no?" Arizona asks through gritted teeth. "What if I say I don't accept your apology?"

A tear itches at the corner of Amelia's eye but she brushes it away and says, "Well, if we can't make amends we… we practice living amends. You live the best life that you can. Do good where you can, help people when you can. Be of service, try to save lives. I… I can't change what I've done but I _can_ change who I am. And improve my life. And… and that's what I want to do."

Blue eyes stare into teary brown ones seated across from her and Arizona lets Amelia's words really sink in. Then, after a few tension filled minutes, Arizona grips the shoulder of her shirt and pulls down the right side. Swirls of purples and pinks and blues are revealed as the butterfly inked to the woman's flesh makes an appearance.

Pointing out the very faint surgical line that her tattoo covers, Arizona says, "This happened my freshman year of college. Took me out of the game for good, or so I thought. I was lost… Everything that I had ever loved was taken from me. If I wasn't a softball player, I didn't know what I was. …And then the doctor handed me a bottle of pills." The blonde pauses, her gaze never leaving Amelia's while the two brunettes sit in silence. "And they took the pain away. They made me numb, not just my shoulder, but my soul. …It would have been so easy to just keep taking them."

"But you didn't." Amelia whispers.

Arizona shakes her head gently. "No, I didn't. Because that was the coward's way out, and I was no coward." She straightens her shirt and rolls her head, eliciting a serious of cracks and pops down the length of her neck which makes Callie cringe. With one last deep breath, Arizona steels her blue eyes on her target in front of her, and says, "I want to forgive you, Amelia, I do. And… maybe in time, I will. But you have to prove that you are truly sorry. Not just to me, but prove to yourself as well. I won't pretend to know why you started taking pills in the first place, but… I can honestly say that I am happy that you're getting help."

It's not exactly the outcome Amelia was hoping for, but it's not the worse outcome either, so the woman decides to quit while she's ahead. Standing, she gives her two ex-team mates a forced smile and says, "I'll show you, I will. And I'll prove that… that _that_ Amelia Shepard is not who I am anymore."

"I hope so, Little Shep." Callie replies, "I hope so."

* * *

The next day brings a round of tearful goodbyes as the first few teammates depart for their respective homes. Not everyone is on their way immediately, and Callie and Arizona find themselves as being those few dragging their feet.

On the second day after being released, with only seven or eight other teammates still around, the couple meander around the small apartment complex that was their home during spring training, and they stumble upon a basketball court. Arizona picks up a basketball and starts to dribble while Callie sits on the side line and soaks up the hot Oklahoma sunshine.

Brown eyes watch as the blonde bounces and spins and shoots the ball, a smile creeping on her face. But along with that smile comes a feeling of heaviness, one that she hasn't been able to shake in days. The pitcher feels the heat of the Latina's gaze and turns to meet it, dimples shining as bright as the sun above them.

"As I recall, we have a bit of unfinished business…" Arizona muses, dribbling the ball beside her.

Callie's mind immediately goes back to the night outside one of their hotels, where she and Arizona ended up rather close with very little clothes on. It was during the time when both wanted something but everything was standing in between them.

Standing, the Latina wipes at her backside and replies, "I recall you fouling me, if that's what you mean."

"I fouled _you_?!" Arizona exclaims, "No no, Torres, you fouled _me_."

"My feet were planted, Battleship. That's a charge." Callie states, snatching the ball from the blonde's stunned hands. "And since it was game point and you were _losing_, I would have sunk my free throw and won."

"You think so, huh?" An amused pitcher hums.

"I know so." Torres answers with a confident shrug, shooting the ball from the three point arc and having it sail through the net with a swish.

"Alright then, Boss. Why don't you prove it." The blonde says, pulling off her outer shirt and revealing a black tank top underneath. "And how about we make this interesting?"

"What did you have in mind?" Callie asks, tugging at her own light sweatshirt and tossing it on the ground next to Arizona's top.

"I win… we go to Miami. Together." Arizona answers, halting the Latina mid stride. They hadn't discussed this at all, both preferring to continue along in their pretty pink bubble where it was only them and everything else from the outside world didn't exist. But now they've reached the end, and that bubble is stretching to a dangerous level. They need to figure out what they are going to do.

"Miami?" Callie asks, trying to make her brain catch up.

"Yeah. I liked it there." The blonde states. "It was fun. I think it'd be a great place to… start over."

"For you." The Latina adds. "And what if I win?"

"That's not going to happen." Arizona says playfully, hip checking the woman as she passes her and strides to free throw line of the court. "But if you do manage to win, probably by cheating or distracting me by flashing me or something like that…" Callie has to chuckle at how serious the blonde is being as she says this, "…then you get to pick where we go."

Callie chews on her lip for a second, but finally says, "Fine." She steps up to the blonde and tosses her the ball. "Age before beauty, sweetheart."

"I would have won either way, then, _sweetheart_." Arizona growls, checking the ball and the two immediately go into game mode. "First to three?"

"Bring it, baby." Callie taunts. The next second the blonde breaks to the left but the ball quickly gets stripped by a tanned hand, Callie bringing it out to the three then driving it back home for the first point. "Hmm… one, zip. I believe."

"Shut it." Arizona sneers, her competitive side coming out in full force. She checks the ball back to the Latina and sets up. Torres starts towards the basket again, and Arizona covers her. Longer arms keep the ball just out of reach but the blonde is able to block off her passing lanes well enough to keep her contained. She tries to shoot but the shot goes wide and bounces off the backboard, and Arizona capitalizes by rebounding and scoring.

Next two points go back and forth as well, ending with a tied 2-2 score.

"I can almost smell that Miami air." Arizona taunts the woman, tossing the ball to Callie to check back.

"Getting a bit too big for your britches there, Battleship." Callie growls. "You haven't won yet." The blonde surges forward and the catcher is with her every step. The strong woman nearly blankets Arizona as she tries to fight to the basket, but muscled thighs and a tight core are able to sustain the assault. Yet somehow Arizona is able to slip past her range and sprint to the basket, shooting an easy layup. Both sets of eyes watch as the ball circles the hoop, then finally, almost lazily, it falls through.

"Oh yeah! Who's your Daddy!" Arizona shouts, turning to face the Latina. "Oooo so _sweet._ Miami, here we come."

Dark eyes roll as the blonde takes her victory lap around the court, and then maybe a few more. But finally Arizona ends up back in her arms and their lips pressed together. Pulling back enough to gaze into sparkling blue eyes, Callie whispers, "You really want to go to Miami?"

Tangling a hand into soft, raven hair, Arizona replies, "I don't care where we go, I just need you there with me."

* * *

The night before the two are set to leave, they find themselves all alone in the Latina's apartment. Besides Erica Hahn and Miranda Bailey, who actually live in Oklahoma City, all the other women have already left. Three apartments now stand empty besides the captain's, where she and Arizona have camped out for the last few nights. Instead of trying to fit in one small twin bed, the two have brought out a couple of mattresses and set them on the floor of the living room. There, they have shared nights of passion unequal to anything they've had before. No roommates, no schedules, no fear of risking gold. Just them.

All of their things are packed and the apartment is bare. Sheets are pulled over furniture and the only light on in the place is the two small table lamps they have set on the floor next to their thrown together bed. Callie is lying on her stomach, the blonde's laptop open and on in front of her when the apartment door opens.

"Hey sexy." Arizona says, winking at the Latina as she strides in, closing and locking the door behind her.

"That's my name, don't wear it out." Callie mumbles, her attention glued to the screen in front of her.

"So I got some supplies for tonight and tomorrow." The blonde announces cheerfully, plopping down on the mattress and pulling out some items from the white plastic bag she brought back. "Look! I got gummy worms, and Skittles. Some chocolate. And, for the trip…"

Brown eyes are drawn to Arizona's hands and a weak smile crosses plump lips. "Walkie talkies? Really?"

"What? They're fun." Arizona whines. "This way we can talk to each other on the drive without having to use all our minutes." A dimpled smile appears on the pitchers face and she brings the plastic wrapped item up to her mouth, imitating a sound of static, "Boss, this is Battleship. Do you read me? Over."

"You are such a dork." Callie groans, pulling the blonde down into her arms and kissing smiling lips. Within moments, Arizona is on her back, pinned down by the Latina, and their bodies are molded together. Lips caress lips and hips grind against hips.

But oxygen becomes a necessity and the two part, dark brown eyes staring down into aroused blue ones. A tanned finger traces the curve of Arizona's nose and Callie whispers, "Why don't you want to go back to Boston? Back to medicine?" She can sense the blonde's mood shift immediately, those walls that long protected Arizona's heart starting to form around her soul again. "Arizona…" The Latina purrs, trying to keep her pitcher from retreating within herself entirely. "Why do you keep studying even though you say you're done? You're not done, Battleship. You need to-"

"Don't tell me what I need, alright Calliope?" Arizona snaps. "I'm tired of everyone telling me what I need to do. I'm a grown ass woman, and I'll do what I want. …And what I want is for you to shut up about all of this, and just take me." Callie hovers above the woman, their clothed centers pressed firmly together, and stares down at her blonde. "Please, Calliope… Just… Just shut up and kiss me."

* * *

Morning comes and the time to leave is upon them. Arizona is giddy and excited, rambling on so much that she doesn't even notice the sullenness of the Latina. They pack up what little remains and load up their cars, Arizona tossing her stuff in the back of her Jeep while Callie slams down the trunk of her vintage T-Bird. The days since their little rematch, they had been preparing for the long trek across the country, planning their route and where to stop.

Just as they are about to load up and head out, Arizona hands her traveling companion one of the radios and asks, "You ok, Calliope?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." She answers, averting her gaze from the piercing stare of blue eyes. "Just uhh… slight headache is all. So, we ready to roll?"

"Yep, lets hit it." The blonde says with a giggle.

With a quick kiss, they climb into their respective cars and pull out of the parking lot. It's a long trek to Miami from Oklahoma City, nearly 26 hrs straight through. But that didn't deter Arizona from it, instead it prompted her to increase their journey, planning on spending nights in cities neither of them have ever been to before. And while the pitcher planned their trip, Callie couldn't stop another train of thought from implanting itself in her mind. One that she battles with for the first eight long hours of their drive.

When brown eyes catch the sign reading twenty miles until they hit Memphis, Callie brings the walkie talkie to her lips and says, "I'm going to need to fill up again here soon, Arizona. Why don't we pull over at the next stop."

"Roger that, Boss." Arizona replies, her voice bubbly even through the static of their radios. "Oh, and you have to say over. Over." All Callie can do is just sigh and roll her eyes, but the next second the radio in her hand chirps to life again, and the blonde says, "And don't roll your eyes at me. Over."

They pull into one of the many gas stations on the outskirts of Memphis and fill up. While Arizona steps inside to grab them some more supplies, Callie climbs into the Jeep and finds the blonde's phone, finding what she needs and hitting the delete button just as the crunch of shoes appear right outside the driver's side door.

"Got you some Arizona." The pitcher says, holding out a tall can of the beverage. "Knew you liked it."

"Thanks." Callie mumbles, her stomach knotting as she tries to muster up her courage.

"We good to go? I'm all filled up." Arizona asks as she dumps her loot into her passenger's seat.

"Um, no." The Latina answers, making blue eyes meet hers. "Arizona… I uhh… I have something. For you." She stammers, pulling a folded piece of paper out of her back pocket.

With a furrowed brow, Robbins takes it and unfolds the paper, reading the print and asking, "Boston? Why do you have directions to Boston?"

"They aren't for me." Callie states softly. "They're for you."

"I… I don't understand." The woman whispers, looking between the paper in her hands and Callie standing in front of her.

"You need to go home, Arizona." Torres says.

"Why does it feel like you're saying goodbye to me?" The surgeon asks, all the little hints and pieces from the last few days falling into place. The way Callie held her and kissed her, made love to her last night. …It was different. Almost like Callie was trying relish every last second they had together.

"We can't do this." Callie tells her, a sheen of tears crossing in front of her eyes.

"Do what? What are we doing?" Arizona asks, her voice becoming shaky.

But Callie can't answer her, instead she takes a step forward and wraps her arms around the blonde, hugging her tight. She kisses Arizona's forehead and whispers, "Take care now." Without another word, she turns on her heel and retreats, tears streaming down her face.

But Arizona won't accept this and storms after the woman, "Take care now? Take care now?!" She exclaims, her voice breaking with emotion. "What the hell is that? What am I supposed to do with 'take care now'?" But the Latina doesn't look back. "Calliope, please! What did I do? Please, don't do this!"

The emotion in the blonde's voice makes Callie break, and she turns to face her. "I have to, Arizona. You know that. If we go running off to Miami together… that's it. That will be the end of us. Because some time down the line, whether it's a month, six months, a year… I will realize that I hate you. Or that you hate me. Because we cost each other everything we love. And I can't- I _can't _hate you, Arizona."

"I don't care about anything else!" Arizona cries.

"Yes, you do. And you need to fix it. Go to Boston, talk to your family again. Retake your boards, be the amazing surgeon I _know _you dream to be." The Latina says, tears streaming down her face. "And I can't be there with you, Arizona. I know you know that."

But hurt quickly morphs into anger and Robbins snaps back, "All this time you were afraid that I would bail again, but it's you that's bailing on us, Callie. Not me. You!"

"No, Arizona. You may not be bailing on me, but you're running from everything else in your life." Callie replies. "And I know, deep down in my soul I know, that if you come to Miami with me… you'll regret it. And I can't… I won't have you hating me because of it. You need to sort out your life, and I need to sort out mine. We've been using each other to ignore and forget everything else. …We can't be each other's crutch anymore."

"No. NO! You're lying. I won't let you do this, Callie. I won't. Because this is what a relationship is. You lean on each other!"

"Lean! Not carry. God damn it, Arizona. Don't you see? We are carrying each other since the beginning, burying ourselves in the sand when anything scary or hard comes our way." By now both women have tracks of tears running down their eyes, but neither seem to notice. "That's not living, Arizona. We've both been shot through the gut, and we're using band-aids to get by. We need to heal… We need to learn to walk again. And if we're with each other… it can't happen."

"I'll be your crutch then." Arizona tries, pleading for whatever is happening right now to just stop and be forgotten.

But Callie just shakes her head and replies, "I don't want to be yours."

Silence falls between the two women, though the rest of the world continues on around them. The sight of the blonde's lips quivering tears Callie's heart to pieces, but she stays strong. She knew it would come to this, there was no other way. Maybe this thing they had… maybe it was just a fling. A summer love. Something destined to happen to help each other through the difficulties they had faced in the past few months. But for either of them to grow, to mature, Callie knew it had to happen separately.

"I can't say the three words you know I feel, because it wouldn't be fair." Callie says, wiping a late falling tear from her cheek. "So… you go to Boston and be happy. And I'll go to Miami and be happy." Callie takes a step forward, a hand coming up to cup a cheek she will never forget, and kisses tear stained lips softly.

She starts to pull away, but Arizona grips the front of her jacket. "Please… please, Calliope. Don't. I love you, don't do this."

Hearing those words for the first time sends a bolt of heart ache through Callie's body. "I'm sorry." She whispers, stealing one last kiss before adding, "Don't follow me." Hands pry the vice grip on her jacket off and the Latina turns on her heels. She uses every ounce of strength she has to keep a straight face as she climbs into her car and fires up the engine.

"Calliope!" Arizona calls, earning one last look from brown eyes before the Latina puts her T-Bird in drive and barrels out of the gas station. The blonde watches as her love fades away into the horizon, then clutches her chest and collapses to the ground. Tears fall unabashed from her eyes and she calls out to a woman who can no longer hear her.

And as the tires beneath her carry her further and further away from the blonde who stole her heart, Callie finally lets the dam break. She doesn't even make it a mile before she has to pull over to the side, and hold herself as every drop of pain and sadness falls from her eyes, telling the empty air around her, "I love you too."


	32. Chapter 32

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 32

When Arizona was finally able to pick herself up off the ground and clear her vision enough to see, she didn't head to Boston. At least not at first. She drove around aimlessly like a ship wandering the raging sea with a broken compass. Everything she thought she had was gone. Granted, there wasn't much to lose to begin with but still… it was all she needed. She had Callie, and Arizona knew that everything else would just fall into place.

But then the anvil dropped and Callie left her. Told her that it was for her own good, for their own good. They couldn't be together when both were broken and damaged. Callie needed to figure things out at home, in Miami. And Arizona needed to right all the wrongs in her own life in Boston. …Apart. The blonde dehydrated herself from crying so much and she was sure that she would be the first person to actually die of a broken heart. She trusted Callie completely. Even when the woman had hurt her months before, asking Arizona to risk her medical license in hopes of covering up Amelia's secret. But, eventually, Callie did the right thing even though it risked the Latina's own hopes of winning gold while giving her team the chance to go on and continue. She sacrificed her own life's goal in hopes of making other's come true. Arizona trusted her with everything, all the secrets and pain of her life, but then Callie did what they all did. …She just left.

So after sweeping the shards of her shattered heart off that black top, Arizona climbed back into her Jeep and took off. It should have only been a twenty two hour drive to Boston, but it took her three days because more than once she found her vehicle pointed south, towards Miami. But then she'd have to pull over and scream again. And after sobbing for twenty minutes, pounding her steering wheel and cursing the gods, Arizona would turn her Jeep around and head back towards home.

And when she finally entered the Boston city limits that weight of all her past failures and pains accumulated on her chest and it made it hard for her to breathe. A visceral reaction to everything her hometown has become a symbol of. Pain. And hurt. And disappointment. So she turned to the one person she knew she could count on above all else.

With a heavy fist, she knocks on a front door she's found herself at more times she can count, hoping and praying that her pleas are answered. And when the door swings open, Arizona can only stand the intensity of his stare for a few seconds before melting into the arms of her best friend.

"Phoenix, what's wrong?" He asks as he leads the woman into his apartment.

Through her muffled cries and tear stained eyes, Arizona replies, "Everything, Nick. Everything is wrong."

* * *

It took a week and a half for Callie to muster up her courage but now she finds herself storming the lobby of her father's building. A week and a half of crying from missing Arizona, of battling with herself to just forget about being the 'stronger' person and to just drive as fast as she can to Boston and beg for forgiveness. A week of crashing on a friend's couch because she didn't want her family to know she was back in town. …Not yet. But now, after staring at herself in the bathroom mirror for an hour straight, Callie Torres is determined to set her life straight again. …Figuratively speaking.

"Ms. Torres! What a surprise." Her father's receptionist says, the pitch of her voice just a bit too high to be authentic. "Your father is in a meeting but I can-" But Callie isn't in the mood to wait and instead pushes right on through. "No! Ms. Torres, please! You can't just-"

"Try and stop me." The Latina challenges. She's taken on some of the biggest, strongest and the most fiercest base runners in the world and has more often than not come out on top. Callie Torres isn't afraid of a tiny 115 lb receptionist. And her stride doesn't falter when she pushes open the heavy door to his office, nor as she stalks up to his desk.

Her father looks up as his receptionist chases after his daughter, and brown eyes go wide in surprise. "Calliope? What are you-"

"Hang up." Callie spits.

Carlos gawks at his daughter for a second, not used to her being so rude with him, and states, "I'm in the middle of-" But the decision is taken out of his hands when Callie reaches across his desk and hangs up the call herself.

Anger boils over and Carlos bolts from his chair. "Calliope Iphigenia Torres, how dare you do-"

"How dare me?!" Callie exclaims. "How dare _you_!"

"Get out of my office this instant." The man demands.

"No." The Latina sneers. "No, I'm not going anywhere, Daddy. I'm not going to be pushed around by you anymore." The heat coming from her father's glare is enough to make the skin melt off her skull, but Callie remains strong. "How dare you come to London and _demand _that I leave the team. That I abandon my teammates and walk out on my country. How _dare _you!"

"We are not going to talk about-" Carlos fights back but gets cut off again.

"Yeah, we are going to talk about it." Callie interjects. "Because I'm sick and tired of having a father who only supports me when I do what he wants. For God's sakes, Daddy. I won a _medal _in the Olympics and all I get from you is silence. No congratulations, no smile, not even a phone call. Nothing…" Carlos slowly slinks back down into his chair as sadness fills Callie's eyes. "I… I'm trying to understand why you're so angry at me but… I can't. I'm your daughter. You're supposed to love me. You're supposed to accept me."

"I can't accept the life you have chosen to live." Carlos replies in a broken voice. "You've committed a… grave sin. And you've brought shame to this family."

"By loving someone?" Callie cries, silent tears streaking her face even though she swore to herself she wouldn't cry in front of her father. "How is that wrong, Daddy? Tell me, how is me loving someone so wrong?"

"It's unnatural. And goes against God." He answers. "You were raised with certain values and beliefs and you deliberately go against the path of righteousness by committing acts of an… intimate-" The word tastes like bile on the man's tongue, but he continues on. "-nature with a woman and that cannot be ignored."

Callie stares at the man she once thought of as a hero, but now only as a man too weak to stand up against others to protect his family, and she says, "Then I guess I was lost when I had sex for the first time. Because I wasn't married. …Or when I divorced George, because divorce is a sin as well. So I guess I've been a lost cause for a while now." She takes a second to compose herself, then turns on her heel and leaves.

To see his daughter in pain tears at Carlos's heart, and he calls after her, "Calliope, please…" She stops in her tracks and listens, but doesn't face him. "Let me take you to see Father Kevin. He can help you, make you see the light again. We can help you, mija. And then… it'll be like it never happened. You can come and work for me, get your trust fund back… You don't have to be like this."

A forced laugh slips from plump lips and finally Callie spins to look her father in the eyes. "This is who I am, Daddy. I don't want to work for you, or take over the family business. I don't want the money. And I don't want to forget about Arizona, because I love her. All I want is for you to accept me as I am. …And if you can't do that, if you can't see that I'm the same person I've always been then… I'm sorry. I'm sorry that you can't open your mind to something or someone who might be just a little bit different than you are. But I'm not changing who I am, and I'm not going to pretend what happened between me and Arizona never happened because those were the best moments of my life."

Another pregnant pause falls between them, each waiting for the other to crack, but then Callie realizes she's just bashing her head against a brick wall. So with a renewed dose of strength she wipes away the last of her tears and says, "You know, I idolized you. But now…" Carlos can see the disappointment in his daughter's eyes but he just can't let the issue drop. And without another word he watches the light of his life walk out of his office… and out of his life.

* * *

"What am I going to say to them?" A beaten and broken Arizona asks as she watches the dark amber liquid swirl around her glass. Others taking up residence in her usual neighborhood bar laugh and chat with one another while the blonde sits on a bar stool and broods.

"Tell them the truth." Nick replies.

"It's not that easy." She sighs then downs the last of her scotch and gestures to the barkeep for another. "Getting my parents to stay in the same room is like risking World War III, then trying to tell them that they've been bad parents on top of that? I'd rather not be accused of being the reason the entire block combusts in a flaming ball of fire."

Silence fall between the two friends, as it has for the past few weeks since Arizona has been home. Nick has done his best to help the troubled Arizona try to breathe again but sometimes when he looks into those blue eyes he just can't see the fight anymore. Arizona used to be a fighter, ever since they started hanging out together. He, Arizona and Tim used to raise hell, but now that Arizona seems lost. And he can time it up to almost exactly when her brother perished overseas.

He battles himself for a few minutes on whether to bring up a subject he hasn't uttered a word about, nor has Arizona. She doesn't mention Callie, but he's seen the news. He watched the Games. He saw how Arizona looked at the woman, and in their embrace just after winning Gold, when all of America's eyes were on them, he saw that fire in his friends soul again. But it doesn't take a genius to realize that something happened, otherwise Arizona wouldn't be sitting with him in the bar as she tries to drink herself numb. No… something has hurt his friend more deeply than anything else that has happened yet.

"Have you talked to her yet?" Nick asks.

Arizona's finger still on her glass and blue eyes slowly trek up to meet his gaze. "Who?"

"You know who, Flagstaff." The man replies softly and receives only silence in return. "You loved her, didn't you?"

"I still do." The blonde whispers. "If only that were enough."

* * *

"Arizona Robbins." An examiner calls, creating a wave of anxiety to flow through the blonde's veins.

With shaky legs the woman stands and replies, "Here."

"This way please." The man says, then steps back into the hotel room that is being used as an exam room.

Arizona straightens the jacket of her business suit and takes a deep breath. Today is the day she has been both dreading and expecting for some time. Nearly ten months ago she sat across from this hotel and just stared at it while dozens of fellow surgeons took their boards. She was supposed to be among them but her brother's death was still fresh, that wound still open and exposed. That Arizona couldn't do it, so instead she ran. But this is a new Arizona, one fighting to take control of her life. It's not easy. None of it has been easy. Confronting Rachel, her ex. Talking to her folks. Convincing her chief of surgery to allow her back to work even if it meant under probation. But here she is.

She enters the clean and warmth free room, taking a seat in an armless chair across from two exam practitioners. They're busy scribbling something in their respective folders, giving Arizona even more time to settle down. She pulls at the hem of her skirt to straight it and smoothes out some invisible wrinkles before bringing a hand to her chest. Just beneath her blouse lies something heavy, and cool. Her gold medal. At first she thought it was ridiculous to wear, but Nick insisted. He said it would bring her courage and strength. And he's right, it has.

"Alright, Dr. Robbins." The older of the two white gentleman starts. "A 11 year old Caucasian boy comes into the ER showing signs of cardiac distress. Go."

What seems like mere seconds later the blonde is released after the first of three sections of her oral boards are completed. Despite her fears and anxieties, she feels good. Great. It's not a secret that she is an amazing surgeon, one of the best in her program and a young doctor with a bright future. But since last year there has been a sort of… wall, one that has been chipped away at slowly but surely ever since.

She takes a few minutes to herself in the restroom while fellow doctors also take their breaks. After splashing some cool water on her face, the blonde exits the bathroom when a hand reaches out and grips her arm. Spinning on her heel she finds a hand belong to a young, no more than 8 years old, girl.

"I saw you on TV." The girl says, smiling to reveal a couple missing teeth.

"Sofia! Sofia where are- there you are." A woman calls, stepping up behind the girl. "I'm so sorry if she was bothering you."

"Mom, I told you it was her!" The girl exclaims, turning her gaze from to her mother to Arizona. "You were on the TV for the Olympics. Right?"

"That's right." Arizona replies with a smile. "You watched us?"

"Yeah, every game. I even made a flag." Sofia says, a light sparking beautifully green eyes. And even thought the two girls didn't look anything like one another, Arizona is taken back in time to when a different Sofia graced her life. One that changed everything the blonde thought about medicine. She wanted to be hardcore, work with hearts or do trauma. She hated kids, they were loud and messy and they smelled funny. Then she met Sofia. And she lost Sofia. …And now she is testing to become a board certified pediatric surgeon in hopes of never losing a Sofia again.

"Do you have your gold medal?" The girl asks, shaking Arizona from her thoughts.

The mother grips her daughter's shoulder and says, "Honey, it's not polite to-"

"I do, actually." Arizona cuts the woman off, kneeling down to get on the same level as Sofia. She reaches under her shirt and slowly pulls out the golden ornament, making green eyes go wide with wonder.

"Wow, that's pretty." Sofia whispers, her tiny hands reaching out to touch the raised surface.

"It is." Robbins agrees. She can feel her break drawing to a close and she adds, "You know what, I'm heading into a very important meeting right now and… this medal is just too heavy for me to carry with me. If only there were someone who could hold it for me." Sofia's eyes widen in an instant and she nearly starts to hop in place. "Do you know of someone who could do that?"

"I could!" The girl answers.

"You?" Arizona feigns uncertainty. "I don't know, are you strong enough to carry it?" Pigtails wave feverishly as Sofia nods her head 'yes' hard enough to stir her brain. "Are you trustworthy? Can you protect it? Use it only for good? Because that's what this medal stands for, Sofia. Bringing only good to the world."

"Yes, I can." Sofia says, looking up to into the smiling face of her mother. "You can trust me, I promise."

"Alright then…" The surgeon replies, then pulls the medal up and over her head. "Keep this safe for me, alright kiddo?" With one last look at the excited girl, now the one wearing the gold, Arizona turns on her heel and heads back to her exam.

She's just being called by the time she makes it to her assigned room and Arizona quickly settles back into her chair. "Ready to continue, Dr. Robbins?" Her practitioner asks.

A hand reaches up and rests against Arizona's chest to find no medal, no crutch, no lucky charm. But for some reason she knows she doesn't need it. And with a smile, Arizona simply replies with, "Bring it on."

* * *

A piercing ring of Callie's alarm clock pulls the Latina out of her deep sleep. The sound bounces off the empty, dull walls of her bedroom and starts to bore into her mind. Brown eyes squeeze together, trying to block the noise, the day, the world… everything out, but it doesn't work. Disentangling herself from the cocoon of sheets and pillows, an unsteady hand reaches out for her phone and shuts off the alarm. There is nothing more she wants to do is to close her eyes again and drift back off to sleep, but the work schedule hanging on her refrigerator door and the pile of bills stacked up on her kitchen counter are reminders that that just isn't an option.

After a big stretch the Latina rolls out of bed and shuffles to the bathroom in a daze, stubbing her toe on one of the many boxes still left unpacked. After weeks and weeks, most of her possessions still remained boxed up. It's not that the woman has been working long shifts and extra hours just to try and get by, but there is also the subconscious thought that once she finally does unpack, this little hole in the wall is her home. Callie Torres never thought she took her family's money for granted, but she never thought trying to make it on her own would be so hard. …Especially with an economy in a tail spin.

When she finally makes it to the bathroom sink, partially hopping the rest of the way as a string of expletives slip between her lips, tired brown eyes greet her with heaviness. It seems like just an hour ago she finally fell into bed and now she has to do it all over again.

Within an hour and a half Callie strides through the back door of her place of employment, a semi-popular karaoke bar. It's not her dream job. Far from it in fact. But when all the experience you have is a degree in Hotel Management and a gold medal in softball, there's not a lot out there. Especially when ninety percent of the hotels within the greater Miami area belong to one Carlos Torres. What Callie really wants is a restaurant of her own, but that takes money and connections. Things she doesn't have… along with money. Being broke doesn't make living any easier so she ended up taking the first job someone offered her. Just so happened that she visited this establishment a couple times in the past and the owner remembered her. So now Callie Torres, ex-heiress to a fortune and a world renowned softball player, is a waitress in a neighborhood karaoke bar.

"Torres! You're late!" Her boss shouts from his office as she flies past his open door.

"I closed last night, give me a break." The Latina replies while locking her purse and jacket in her locker.

The large, overweight and sweaty man shuffles from his office and leans against the door jam, his breath heavy and ragged. "You're the one who wanted more hours so don't bitch at me that you're tired." Only because her back is turned to the man does Callie chance an eye roll. "And there's a broad waiting for you. She's been here for an hour but wouldn't leave."

This catches Callie's attention, a flicker of hope sparking inside of her. Maybe it's Arizona. Maybe she's here to sweep Callie off her feet. Hell, she'd even take Arizona coming all the way back to Miami to just to call her a bitch. She doesn't care as long as it's Arizona.

"Who is it?" Torres asks, trying to keep a calm exterior.

"Wouldn't say." The man replies shortly. "But get her out of here. You got work to do and I don't need you half assing your way through another shift." He turns back into his office while Callie moves on towards the front of the club, mumbling something not nice under her breath. "What was that?!"

She grinds her teeth but shoots her boss a tight smile and replies too sweetly, "Nothing." Pushing through the double doors that separate the back from the rest of the bar, her eyes scan the dozens of bar stool and chair legs sticking up in the air. A noise from behind the bar draws her attention and she sees the usual starting barkeep setting up his stock for the night. But then with one more sweep she finds a lone woman sitting in a darkened corner, waiting.

Any hopes that it might be Arizona are dashed when not blonde hair but black comes into view. Callie approaches the woman slowly, and when footsteps are heard the mysterious person peeks over their shoulder and the Latina recognizes her instantly.

"Aria, what are you doing here?" Callie asks in shock. It's been much longer than she would like to say since she's seen her sister, but the Latina knows that this call can't be a social one.

"I could ask you the same thing, Callie." Aria replies evenly, a perfect rendition of their mother's tone.

A disbelieving smirk appears on Callie's lips. "Don't." She snaps, then turns on her heels and starts to pull down the dozens of chairs waiting for her.

"Mom and Dad haven't heard from you in nearly three months." Her sister continues, following Callie as she moves around the bar.

"Yeah well, the phone works both ways." The woman grumbles.

Taking hold of her sister's arm, Aria tugs Callie to a halt and says, "This isn't right, Callie. It's not proper. You acting like the victim isn't helping anything. You need to-"

"I'm going to stop you right there, Aria." Callie growls. "You don't get to play big sister to me, not anymore. When you cut ties with me just because Daddy told you to you lost that right. And I'm not 'playing' anything."

"You think you're the only one who was hurt from all of this?" Aria rebuttals. "Imagine what our parents went through when your face popped up on TV, sticking your tongue down another woman's throat. What were they supposed to do? They were blindsided, Callie. We all were. And we didn't get a single word from you! No heads up, nothing."

"So instead Dad comes storming into Olympic Village, demanding I come home with him so he can send me to some mind warping church program to pray the gay out of me?" Callie exclaims. "Tell me how any of this is my fault. That picture was taken without my knowledge and shown without my consent. I had no-"

"You KISSED her!" Aria shouts above her sister. "You did that, Callie. _You. _That is how this is your fault. It's your fault that Dad is having chest pains and Mom is sick so often that she's forming ulcers. That's all on you."

"Fine. Wanna dump it all on me, that's just fine." Callie snaps back, stepping in close to her older sister and using the inch height advantage she has to look down at Aria. "If it makes you feel better about all of this, ok. Do it. You know why? Because I don't care anymore. I'm done trying to please everyone besides myself. If my family can't accept me for who I am then I don't accept them." A beat passes, Callie daring her sister to say something but when only silence is given, she adds, "Now, please leave. Because I am one incident away from being fired and I need this job to try and pay the pile of bills stacked up on my counter at home otherwise I'll not only be jobless… but homeless as well."

Aria studies her sister's face and sees a mixture of pain and sadness dwelling deep in those brown eyes, and a fresh wave of quilt washes over her. Shoulder's slumping, the woman digs into her purse and pulls out a pen.

Callie watches her older sister starts to make out a check and asks, "What are you doing?" But instead of answering, Aria rips the fresh check from its place in her checkbook and hands it to Callie. Brown eyes go wide at the sum written there but then she quickly recovers. "I don't want it." She sneers, shoving it back into her sisters hand then turning her back to the woman.

"Callie, don't be stupid." Aria groans. "Just take it."

"And let Mom and Dad think that they can just buy their way out of all of this?" The Latina questions. "No."

"It's not their money, it's mine." The other woman replies. "Alright? So just take it, pay off your bills, and come back home."

"No." Callie says again. "You all made it perfectly clear about how you feel about me and my lifestyle, and I'm not going to go back to living a fake life. I'm not. I'm going to stay here, work in this run down bar until something else… something better opens up. Because I don't want that life, Aria. I don't want that life of fake smiles and fake families and million dollar homes that are just for show. I want the real thing… Love that isn't forced and a family that is full of life. And I'm getting punished because that real thing just so happens to involve a woman. And that's not fair." A tear starts to streak down the Latina's cheek, an overhead light catching it just right so that it shines like a beacon in Aria's gaze. "How is it fair that you get a happy ever after and I don't, just because I fell in love with a woman and not a man?"

The question gets left hanging in the air because Callie pushes through into the back of the club, leaving her sister alone to think about it all. And she does think, being a lawyer doesn't just happen by chance. She saw the sadness in her sister's eyes, the lack of hope weighing down the woman's shoulders. Despite often being at odds when they were younger, Aria's love for her little sister is trumped by nothing else in this world. It's only because of that love she flew down from New York in hopes of talking some sense into the woman. But then she saw Callie's conviction, heard her words, and felt her pain. And it was all too real.

And when, later that evening as Aria sits quietly in the dark corner of that karaoke bar, her sister is called up on stage to sing a number for the crowd, tears flow like the mighty Mississippi as Callie belts out the most heart wrenching rendition of 'Leave the Light On'. Because Aria knows that her sister isn't just singing a song, but serenading a woman she loved… and lost.

* * *

The hard, bitter winter wind of mid December slaps Arizona square in the face. Tears start to run down from her eyes and freeze before they even reach her chin. The snow below her feet crunches as she fights her way to her destination. Thin scrubs beneath her winter jacket does little to keep her warm but this trip wasn't planned, it just happened. It's been a long time coming, and maybe the coldness now attacking her body is a form of punishment, one that she believes she fully deserves.

She weaves through row after covered row until she reaches the one she is looking for, or so she hopes. Down ten spaces and Arizona comes to a stop in front of a snow covered mass, and with a clearing wipe of her hand, the etched words of 'Timothy James Robbins' appears.

Within the confines of the cemetery the brutal wind is abated just enough, and the blonde falls to her knees in front of her brother's gray marble tombstone.

Blue eyes, watery from the sharp bite in the air, study the slab of granite she has only seen once. It's been nearly a year, only a week until the day, since he died. A year since Arizona's world came crashing down, along with everything she loved. She hasn't visited her brother since, nor has she even spoken to him. Arizona has spoken of him, about him, she's read his letters more times than she can count, but to talk to the heavens, to talk to someone who is no longer here, makes it too real.

But with a heavy breath, one that hangs on the crisp December air, Arizona speaks her first words to her brother since his death. "…Hey big bro. How are you? …You know, I told mom and dad not to get you the gray one, you hate gray. But, surprise surprise, they didn't listen." A beat passes, almost as if Arizona is waiting for a response, and then a forced chuckle slips from between pink lips. "God I'm terrible at this… I know. I should have come sooner but I just… I couldn't" Blue eyes fill with tears of emotion, but are kept restrained. "Because I still can't understand why. …Why you? I don't blame you Tim, not at all. I get it. …You wanted to save the world. But… why did it have to be you?" Finally the first tear escapes her grasp and freezes against her cheek.

"God, I miss you. So much, I miss you." A steady stream of wetness streaks from her eyes and Arizona doesn't even bother to wipe them away. "You left me, Tim. You left and you're not coming back and I miss you so much it hurts. …I miss how you used to pick on me, and how Mom would roll her eyes when we'd come up with a scheme together. I miss your letters and your voice. I just miss you." She buries her face in her hands, trying to calm herself. The coldness has already seeped into her flesh, making her skin nearly numb but it doesn't bother her. It gives her something to hold on to.

Clearing her vision yet again, she continues in a ragged voice, "And I got you something…" Arizona pulls out a weighty gold medal from her pocket, the metal glittering in the barely there sunlight. "I won this… for you, Tim. I thought that by winning this, it would honor your sacrifice. That it would really show you how much I love you. And maybe, just maybe, it'd give me something to fight for." A finger traces the raised patterns of the award just like it has a hundred times before. "But this wasn't the best thing that happened to me since you died, Tim. Not by a long shot. …I met someone."

A smile plays at chapped lips, an image of a smiling Callie replaying in her mind. "She's amazing. …And I miss her. God I miss her so much. …You would have loved her. You would. She's… perfect. She was the one, Tim. The reason you'd be dancing at my wedding, because I would have married the most amazing woman ever. But now? I don't know… I know she left me because she loved me but… God, she left and took my heart with her. I just don't know how to make it work."

After pulling a limp tissue from her pocket and clearing her nose, Arizona continues, "I came back to Boston to… make things right. To take control of my life again. For you, for Callie. But… I realized that those weren't good enough reasons. I needed to do it for myself. So I talked to Mom and Dad, like really talked to them for the first time in a year. It was painful and awful but… so worth it. And I confronted Rachel. …Who says hi by the way. She always did like you, Timmy."

Pink lips turn up in a playful smile for a half second before her sadness falls back into place. "And I went back to work, I passed my boards. …Today I operated on a little boy, eleven years old. A moppy head of thick, tangled brown hair and the greenest eyes I've ever seen." She finally gets to the real reason of what brought her to her brother today, her hands wringing together as her gaze remains plastered on the tombstone right in front of her. "He shouldn't have made it. …He should have died on the table, or years before but… he pulled through. If anyone else had had their hands on him, he would have died. But I saved him. It took me so long to remember why I do what I do, but then today, when I told his weeping mother and his stone-faced father that their little boy will live to grow old, I remembered."

And wiping the way the last of her tears and holding up her medal, she says, "So I don't need this anymore. I've taken all I can from it so I figured that since it was you who took me to London, Tim, that you could hang on to it for me." Using one of her keys, Arizona is able to pry up just enough of the frozen ground right in front of Tim's tombstone, and she slips the plastic covered package underneath. "If I ever want it back, I'll know where to find it but… I want you to have it, big brother. …And, this might be my last visit for a while. I was offered a fellowship in Seattle and… I'm thinking about taking it. But don't worry, just because I'm gone doesn't mean won't talk to you. I will. I promise." Swallowing the lump in her throat, Arizona rights herself into the standing position, legs numb and wobbly from having been kneeling so long.

Once her balance has returned, the blonde kisses her gloved hand and places it on the cool marble of her brother's gravestone. "I love you, Tim. And I miss you."

* * *

Another night has drawn to a close at the dark and depressing bar Callie Torres is working in. Another night of people singing off key, men asking for 'another round hot stuff', and not enough tips to make up for not killing someone. The Latina counts through her earnings and finds it depressingly small. Those bills stacked up in her apartment never seem to get any less, but somehow only grow. She's avoided being kicked out for four months, but everything else is pretty lean. It's only because she is stealing wi-fi from the old couple who live above her, who have yet to figure out how to password their connection, that she doesn't end up sitting in the dark night after night after night.

"I thought Christmas season was supposed to be a giving season." She grumbles under her breath. "Hey Joe?"

The bartender peeks his head out from the stock room and calls, "Yeah?"

"If you're good, I'm gonna head out." Callie replies, already untying her apron and grabbing her stuff.

"Sounds good, Cal. Have a good night." Her lone friend says, waving as she walks past and out into the Miami night.

She instinctively grips the can of mace on her key chain as she turns the corner and starts the six block walk back towards her apartment. Callie is still in possession of her T-Bird but when her work is so close, she doesn't waste gas on the daily trip to and from, instead relying on the lit and populated sidewalks of Miami to get from A to B. The first few nights were a little tense but now, after four months of the same routine, she knows when something is amiss.

Which is why, as she pushes open the front door of her apartment building and checks her mailbox, she peeks over her shoulder to find a figure crouched down and leaning against the far wall. Whoever she was expecting it was, the woman who stands and steps into the light makes her heart stop.

"Arizona." She whispers between dry lips.

The blonde knew who it was the moment the Latina's feet hit the apartment building lobby. The signature pounding of strong legs and long strides is something that has been engrained into Arizona's mind for eternity. Hours of waiting and wondering, battling on whether to forget it and just leave, have come full circle to this moment.

"Hey." Arizona replies just as softly.

Realizing her mouth is agape, Callie snaps it shut and mumbles, "W-what are you-"

"We need to talk…" The blonde cuts her off.

The sharpness of the woman's tone makes the Latina's stomach knot, but she's able to muster up a response. "Um, o-ok. We can go to my apartment." Arizona just nods and follows the woman who broke her heart over four months ago.

They climb the three sets of stairs in silence, Arizona always a step behind Callie, and soon end up at Torres's front door. Shaky hands struggle to find the correct key and slide it into the lock, but finally it turns and the door gives way.

"Come in." Callie murmurs. It's not the first time she's had company over, but it's the first time anyone she knows has seen her place. She watches from across the room as crystal clear blue eyes take in the small, rundown apartment. It's not horrible, but it's not what one would expect a daughter of a millionaire to be living in. Boxes are still stacked around the living room, coffee still in its pot and yesterday's work clothes strewn across the couch.

"Sorry about the mess…" She says, quickly snatching the clothes and tossing them into the bedroom before shutting it from sight. The two women stand on opposite sides of the apartment, both more nervous than when they faced Japan in the finals, and neither knowing what to say.

With a deep breath, Callie starts, "Arizona, I-"

"Don't." Arizona cuts her off. "You uh, you did most of the talking the last time we saw each other so now it's my turn." Her words are much stronger than she feels and right now she is silently wishing she would have folded earlier and just had a smoke.

"Ok." Callie whispers, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"I…" A forced laugh slips between pink lips, and she continues. "I've spent a lot of time… _a lot_, trying to figure out what to say to you. I've had this conversation in my head more times than I can count and every time it just… Last week marked a year since Tim died."

Callie can see the slight twinkle in those blue eyes that signal a trace of approaching tears, and she mumbles, "I'm sorry."

"I visited his grave for the first time since. Before then I couldn't even talk to him, but there I was. In the freezing ass cold, kneeling in six inches of snow, crying my eyes out because I finally… accepted that he was gone." Her voice is rough and she keeps her eyes averted from the Latina as she slowly moves through the apartment, almost like Callie is pulling her closer. "I've accepted that my parents are divorced, and I've been able to, for the first time in I don't know how long, sit down and talk with them. …I've retaken my boards and I've gone back to work. …And I did all of this despite you, Callie."

Callie's heart, which has been pounding faster than ever, suddenly stops. The ice in Arizona's words cut her to the core and all those fears she's had for the past few months of Arizona falling out of love with her have come speeding back.

"You were right. I was using you." Arizona continues. "I was using you to forget about my pain, and my loss. I was using you like a drug. And, just like every other addict, when my drug was _ripped _away from me, I died." Finally blue eyes meet brown in the soft lighting of Callie's apartment, and they reach deep down into the Latina's soul. "Not literally, obviously. But metaphorically, I died. I didn't know what to do. But slowly I recovered. I learned to live without you."

Their gazes lock for a few seconds, and then the blonde adds, "When I failed my boards last year, the fellowship at Johns Hopkins was given away to someone else. But… another hospital, one of the best in Pediatric Surgery, offered me a their fellow position."

"Oh?" Callie breathes out, not having the strength for anything else because her heart is getting shredded finer and finer with each word Arizona utters.

"It's in Seattle, Washington." Arizona says, "And I'm taking it."

Those four words hit Callie like a hammer, her breath being knocked from her body and her heart being ripped from her chest. This is it, this is the end. Any hopes of she and Arizona getting back together are over. Whatever their relationship is at the present, as messed up and difficult as it is, would never be able to survive the three thousand mile distance between Miami and Seattle. …And that's if Arizona wanted to try it or not. But going off of everything the blonde has said up to this point, she doesn't.

A ragged breath gets pushed from her lungs and a tear that has been threatening to fall for a long time now finally makes a streak down her cheek. "I'm happy for you…" She manages to get out before more tears streak down her face.

Blue eyes watch as the woman in front of her slowly falls apart, and Arizona quietly adds, "And I want you to come with me."

Taking in a sharp breath, brown eyes snap up to the blonde and Callie has to ask, "What?"

A crooked smile pulls at one side of her face, and Arizona says, "I planned to say all these terrible thing to you, Calliope, but in the end, you're still the woman I love. …And I know we're skipping about a million steps but I know that I need you. Yes, I can live without you, I've proved that. But I know… I _know _that you're it for me. You're the woman that I've been dreaming about since I was young, and you're the woman who I've imagined growing old with, and I'm not running away from it anymore." She takes a small step forward, closing the distance between them to just a foot, and says, "I want you to come to Seattle with me, but I'm not going to beg. I don't want to be with someone who doesn't want to be with me. …So I need to know. Do you still love-"

The rest of the sentence is never spoken because Callie lunges forward, her hands cupping creamy cheeks and her lips finding Arizona's. It's a kiss she's been craving and dreaming and imagining for four months, and it's so much better. Tears fall unabashed from both blue and brown eyes as Arizona takes hold at the nape of the Latina's neck, pulling her down harder.

"I'm sorry." Callie sobs between their joined lips. "I'm so sorry." And Arizona knows she is, not because of her words but because of her pain. Someone can always say they are sorry, but the real apology is when you hear the sadness in their voice and see the look in their eyes. And you realize that they have hurt themselves just as much.

Their mouths part, both out of breath and their vision hampered from tears, but blue eyes stare up into brown and Arizona whispers, "Say it…"

And the words Callie has ached to say to her finally come flooding out, and she says, "I love you. Arizona, I love you. I love you, I love you…" Neither know who reinitiates their kiss, but both delve into with hunger and passion. And when air becomes a necessity again, they cling to each other like life rafts, afraid that if they let go they will float away forever.

"How did you find me?" Callie asks with a hoarse voice.

Arizona pulls away, and with shaky hands she reaches into her back pocket to pull out a small index card. "I got this in the mail…" A tanned hand grasps it and Callie reads the plain piece of paper. A black sharpie has hastily written down her address, along with 'Just in case you wanted to know'. "It didn't have a return address but…" Blue eyes read the flash of confusion quickly followed by understanding, and she says, "You didn't send this."

"No, but I know who did." The Latina replies.

"So… you never answered my question." The blonde muses after a second, blue eyes pleading for brown to meet her gaze again. "I mean, I know it's a lot to ask… and I'll be working 100 hours a week, getting paid less than minimum wage but… this is the start of my new life, Calliope. And I want you to be a part of it."

Callie presses in for yet another kiss, soft, tender and loving, the Latina never getting over how sweet Arizona tastes against her lips. And as she parts, Callie pulls the blonde's hips into hers, their two body molding together. With her forehead resting against Arizona's, she whispers, "When do we leave?"

True dimples appear for the first time in four months, and the blonde says, "When are you ready?"

Dark eyes scan the run down hovel she's been calling home for months now, and says, "Give me ten minutes to spread the lighter fluid then I'm good." Their laughs meld together, forming a tune that neither thought they would ever hear again.

Sobering up, a caramel finger traces the jaw line of the woman she set free so long ago, still not believing she came back, and asks, "Until then… Stay with me?"

"Yes." Arizona answers in a whisper.

"Forever?" Callie mumbles.

"Forever."


	33. Epilogue

Disclaimer: This is AU. I do not own any of the characters from Grey's Anatomy. I just manipulate them to my will. Also, any line or phrase or setting that seems remotely familiar from any other show, movie or book, also not mine. I borrow…

AN: Yay, the last chapter is ready! Now, just wanted to explain the time progression. When it says 2 weeks later, six months later, one year later, it's not an aggregate thing. It's not like 2 weeks, then six months from that two weeks. It's six months from the ending of chapter 32, then a year from the ending of chapter 32. Didn't know if people would get confused by that so I just wanted to make it clear. Enjoy!

* * *

Epilogue

**2 weeks later**

"So?" A gruff and disinterested man asks from the doorway of a very dark and dingy apartment.

It's been two weeks since Arizona appeared out of nowhere in Miami. Two weeks since the blonde asked Callie, the woman who left Arizona standing in the middle of a gas station as her heart slowly disintegrated, to come to Seattle with her. Three thousand miles, leaving everything either of them knew back on the east coast. And yet, here they are. The second day of apartment hunting and each prospect seems to be slightly worse than the last. But with what the pittance Arizona will be earning during her fellowship, minus all the bills that come with being a surgeon, and the lack of job Callie has lined up means the couple can't afford much.

The tiny one bedroom apartment is about the size of the apartments the couple where living in during the Games, only those were clean. And new. The room they are standing in has stains on the carpets, patched and unfinished holes in the walls and a door that doesn't seal properly. A constant dripping from the bathroom sink is already wearing on the blonde's nerves and Callie doesn't even want to think about what could be growing in the refrigerator. But all in all… this is one of the better places they've seen.

"So?" Arizona asks in a whisper. "What do you think?"

"I think this place needs to be burned to the ground." Callie grumbles, a snarl forming on her face when she swipes a finger across one of the few windows letting in the rare Seattle sunlight and pulls it back to find a thick layer of dust and scum.

"It just needs a little TLC." The blonde replies. "A good once over. …Then a second. Some paint. Steam the carpets. We'll disinfect… everything. …Get some furniture. It could work, right?" If she is honest with herself, Arizona is terrified. Not only did she get herself into all of this, but she dragged Callie into it as well. If they don't make it Arizona will blame herself. And for all the hurt and pain she has been through in her short life, she knows that losing Callie again and forever would be the driving nail straight to her heart. She wouldn't be able to recover.

Brown eyes survey their prospective home one more time then find the blonde's, about to tell Arizona 'hell no'. But then she does find the blonde's gaze and all of Callie's misgivings melt away when she sees the hope and prospect in Arizona's look. This apartment could be roach infested and situated on the corner of a known crack zone and Callie would still fold if those blue eyes looked at her like they are looking at her now.

So with a deep breath the Latina steps around her girlfriend and approaches the wheezing landlord. "We'll give you last month's rent."

"First and last." The man replies evenly. "And 500 for a security deposit."

"You're kidding, right?" Torres asks, then gestures to the apartment they are standing in. "Security on this? No. No… we'll give you first and last month's rent, but the second month will be on the house." The man starts to fight but Callie cuts him off. "We're going to need a full month's rent to just get this place half way presentable. Unless you want to hire a painter to fix the walls, and a steamer to do the carpets. I'm sure a plumber would make a fortune in this hell hole as well. Or if you'd prefer I could just call the city health examiner and-"

"Fine." The land lord cuts the ranting woman off. "First and last month's rent."

He holds out a pudgy hand to seal the deal and just before Callie takes it she pulls away, "And second month is free." The man mumbles a bit, but then runs his hand through his greasy hair and finally concedes. The Latina notices the slickness now present on her soon to be landlord's proffered hand, so instead she just fist bumps him and says, "You got yourself some new tenants."

He watches as the two women celebrate with a hug and a quick kiss, and grumbles, "Fantastic. Welcome to the neighborhood."

* * *

Shadows flicker across the walls of the couple's new bedroom as candles illuminate the empty space. Only a mattress is present, sheets draped over it in a mess and clothes being strewn across the floor and spilling out of suitcases. It's quiet in their apartment but the sounds of Seattle night life trickle in, the occasional ambulance siren adding a flash of blue lights to their romantic scene.

"So how was work?" Callie asks lazily, sipping from her coffee mug of red wine.

Arizona picks at the piece of pepperoni on her pizza, bringing it to her lips and laying the delicious meat across her tongue, and replies, "Not too bad. I think my boss is finally warming up to me. How about you? How was your day?"

The Latina steals a bite of pizza from her blonde and answers, "Well, interviewed for a job at that bar across the street from your hospital. …Then got the size negative one blonde with big boobs got it instead of me."

"Sorry, sweetie." Arizona coos, kissing pouting lips. "But the apartment looks amazing, you did a great job. Who knew a can of Lysol could do so much."

"A week in and the place is almost livable." Callie jokes. "Give me another few weeks and this place will be looking like the Taj Mahal." She covers her disappointment by leaning into the blonde's body and kissing her again. The taste of wine and pizza is still present, but there is something extra that makes her hum in satisfaction. Something that is uniquely Arizona.

Pizza is set aside and coffee cups are placed at a safe distance as Callie pushes Arizona onto her back, their lips never faltering in their dance. The Latina works her way between the blonde's legs, center pressing against center, and Arizona's hands slip underneath the waistband of the woman's pajama shorts to cup a very shapely ass.

A shirt soon slips up over raven hair and miles and miles of caramel flesh are now exposed for blue eyes to appreciate, but they don't. Instead Callie sees heaviness weighing in her girlfriend's gaze and she asks, "What's wrong, Battleship?"

Fair hands travel the length of Callie's strong back and she asks, "Are you having second thoughts about this? …About coming with me? I mean, you just packed up your life and left."

"I didn't have much of a life to pack, Arizona." The woman replies softly. "But no, I'm not having second thoughts."

"Really? Because look at where we're living." The blonde rebuts. "And I can't promise that it's going to get better any time soon. You deserve the best and… and I want to give that to you but I don't know if I-" A finger presses pink lips to a stop and Arizona realizes that she was starting one of her long, depressed rambling streaks. More and more often she's been having them float through her mind but she hasn't voiced them aloud yet. Because she doesn't want to startle Callie. She doesn't want Callie to see how unsure of all this she really is, even though it was Arizona who asked her to come with.

Warm brown eyes stare down into blue as the candles flicker around them, and Callie whispers, "You're what's best for me, Arizona. I love you, everything about you. And I know that this isn't going to be easy, but I want to do it because I want to be with you. So… we'll sleep on the floor and not have a couch or a tv, and I'll learn to like ramen noodles if I have to but… I'm not sorry that I did this because I love you."

"We do make a pretty good team, don't we?" Arizona muses, a finger tracing the curve of her girlfriend's cheek.

"Mmhmm." The Latina hums as her lips are pressed against the blonde's. "You should know by now, Battleship. I play to win, and I play for keeps."

* * *

**Six months later**

"Dr. Robbins, hold up a moment!"

Arizona stops in her tracks and turns to find her boss stalking up to her. She puts on her signature dimpled smile, knowing what is about to happen.

"Dr. Baines, how are you?" She greets the man.

"I just sat in on your surgery." The man starts in directly, as he usually does. "I've got to say that I am very impressed. I knew you were a force to be reckoned with when I took you on, but you've exceeded my expectations."

"Well, thank you sir." Arizona replies, a blush forming on her cheeks. "That means a great deal coming from you." For as good as she knows she is, it's always nice to hear your superior, mentor and boss admit it as well.

"I know we still have a long haul together, but I just wanted to tell you that I'm very confident that you will come out of this program as one of the names-to-know." Her boss adds just as his pager starts to go off. "Anyways, duty calls. Keep up the good work, Dr. Robbins."

For the remainder of her marathon shift there is an added pep to her step. But an hour until she is due to clock out a big pile up buries the ER in victims, a number of them being children. It's all hands on deck and Arizona is one of the first to be called into the OR. Child after child is placed before her scrutinizing eyes as she examines them and quickly decides who needs to be moved to the front of the line. All of the operating rooms are running at full steam, a certain blonde haired and blue eyed pediatric surgeon taking camp in one of them as she furiously tries to save a one year old who was injured during the accident.

Just as if she were on the pitching mound, facing an opponent from some other country, everything fades away from Arizona's mind. It's just her and the ball, just her and her tools. She takes in information around her and quickly adjusts, barking instructions to her scrub team without blinking an eye. Hour after hour passes and Arizona keeps fighting for her patient's life, a life that the baby boy has yet to live.

But nearly seven long and grueling hours later the blonde finds herself frozen at the scrub station, her gaze looking through the glassed partition as she watches a sheet being pulled over the lifeless body of that one year old boy. She was so close, so close to saving him. But then his body just gave out. He couldn't handle the trauma of the crash and then the invasive surgery to save him. He just gave in. The blonde can still hear the cries of anguish from his parents, his mother stuck in a hospital bed awaiting her own surgery. She pleaded with her husband to just let her die too so she could be with her son.

The door to the scrub room creaks open but Arizona doesn't notice. It's only when a hand grips her shoulder does she realize she's not alone anymore.

Quickly wiping a tear from the corner of her eye, she turns to find her boss staring at her. "Sorry, Dr. Baines. Did you need me?"

"No." He answers gently. "Go home, Dr. Robbins. You've been here for nearly 36 hrs, you need a break."

But blonde tresses are already waving as she shakes her head no. She's not about to leave when there are kids who need help. "I'll just grab an hour in one of the on-call-"

"We got it, Dr. Robbins." Baines cuts her off. "All the kids have been seen to and there are only a few minor surgeries left that need to be done. We're good here. You go home and get some real sleep."

She wants to refuse but exhaustion has not only set into her body now, but her mind as well. So instead she just nods and pulls her pink scrub cap from her head while pushing through to the surgical floor and heading to the locker room. Her mind goes on auto-pilot, preferring not to think at all instead of remembering the way that baby boy looked as he was wheeled into the ER, or listen to his mother's cries again, witnessing his father's heart shatter into a thousand pieces. It's just too much, and she asks herself again why she does it all in the first place.

And because her mind is on auto pilot her feet take her the opposite way of her apartment, and only when she is opening the front door and stepping into a warm and dark restaurant does she realize where she is. The hostess looks up from her podium, ready to turn away this later comer because the place is about to close, but immediately recognizes the blonde.

"Hey Arizona." She greets her.

"Hey Noelle." Arizona replies in a sigh. She steps through the winding maze of empty tables, chairs upturned for the cleaning crew, and approaches the kitchen.

"Hey Torres, your girl is here!" A voice calls from within the kitchen.

A few seconds later Callie pushes through the swinging door, a breathtaking smile on her face. "Hey honey." She coos, wrapping the tired blonde in her strong arms. It doesn't take long for Callie to sense the sadness and exhaustion in her girlfriend's body, and she asks, "Bad day?"

"The worst." Arizona mumbles against the Latina's chest, the smell of a long night's work still clinging to the fabric of her chef's coat.

"I'm sorry." The woman coos, rubbing a hand up and down the tired blonde's back. "Here, take a seat and I'll get you a glass of wine." Callie sets Arizona up at the closest table and pours her a generous portion of alcohol. With a quick kiss and a promise to be back soon, Arizona is left to relax for a few minutes while Callie finishes up her work.

Six months after arriving in Seattle and the couple are still fighting to make it every month. Sure, two jobs is a huge improvement over one, but still neither are exactly bringing home the bacon. Callie was picked up as a waitress at the restaurant Arizona finds herself in now, but after a quick performance for the owner the Latina was transferred to the back as one of the line chefs. It's not exactly what she wants to be doing… but it's a hundred times closer than waiting tables and serving beer.

By the time Callie returns to the blonde Arizona is nearly asleep in her chair, but a soft kiss against her cheek stirs the woman from her nap. "Hey, I missed you." The Latina whispers as she pulls a chair up right beside the surgeon's. "Nearly two days without seeing my Battleship. That should be illegal or something." She adds playfully, kissing tired lips again.

When all she gets is a sleepy smile from her girlfriend, Callie asks, "So what happened today, honey? What's got my perky Arizona all depressed?"

A long sigh spills from Arizona's lungs and she rubs at her scratchy eyes. "I lost a patient. …He didn't have much of a chance to begin with but… it never gets any easier." A warm hand finds hers and Arizona soaks up all the love and life Callie is offering to her. "I don't know, Calliope. Sometimes I wonder, you know? How such terrible things can happen to those who don't deserve it."

"I don't know, sweetie." The Latina replies softly. "But… there can't be light without darkness. Amazing things happen all the time. …You met me, didn't you?" A small giggle forces a dimple to show itself for a half of a second before disappearing again. "I don't have those kinds of answers for you, Arizona. But I do know that the highs make up for all the lows just like with your job. You always tell me that when you lose a patient you ask yourself why it is you do what you do. But then the next kid comes, you save them. And then you remember why. Seeing that smiling face, telling their parents the news that their child will live a long and healthy life, it makes up for everything."

"It does." Arizona whispers. "But sometimes I just can't remember how that feels."

Brown eyes watch as the blonde relives losing her patient again, the pain so evident in her light blue orbs. Callie wants to take that pain away, and there is only one way she knows how. The smaller woman doesn't put up a fight when she is pulled into a warm, loving hug, one where all of her senses are overtaken by Callie, and Callie alone. Her touch, her smell, even the taste of caramel flesh against Arizona's lips makes all of the surgeon's worries just melt away.

"You want to go home?" Callie asks as though it were a secret.

"Yeah." Arizona answers.

The Latina quickly cleans up their small mess and then gives her parting word to the remaining workers before both women step back out into the Seattle summer night. Their hands instinctively find one another's, their fingers intertwining, and they easily find a comfortable pace. It's a routine that has been perfected over the past few months and neither even notice themselves doing it anymore. Just like Arizona didn't realize she had ended up at the restaurant her girlfriend works at. It's almost as if that's how it's always been, almost as if that's how it _should _be.

"Calliope?" Arizona asks, breaking the silence that usually comes with these late night walks back to their apartment.

"Hmm." The woman hums.

"I love you." It's said without any hidden agendas, or prompts. It's free of any sort of inflection or hintings. It's said as if it were fact, scientifically proven. Just as if Arizona had said that the sun rises in east or that one and one make two. No question. No hesitation. Just pure, undeniable truth.

It amazes Callie that those three words can still make her insides flutter as if it were the first time she heard them. And with an arm wrapped around her girlfriend's shoulder, pulling the blonde in safely against her body, the Latina replies, "I love you too."

* * *

**One year later**

"This was such a bad idea." Callie mumbles as she and Arizona sit in the back of their cab. "I can't believe I let you talk me into this."

"It needed to be done, Calliope." Arizona replies even though her own stomach is in knots. "Besides, it's the holiday season. What better time to try and reconnect than during the holidays."

"How about never?" The Latina muses, a slight tone in her voice. "Because that's when this plan of yours is going to work."

Blue eyes roll in their socket and Arizona decides its best not to start arguing with her girlfriend when in just thirty minutes they will be seated at a table with not only the Latina's parents, but the blonde's parents as well. The couple bickered about doing this for months, but when Arizona promised her mother to fly back home for Christmas it was pretty much game over for Callie. She couldn't not cross the country and not try to extend an olive branch to her own parents as well.

So after they pay the Boston cab driver their fair, Arizona and Callie enter the restaurant that will be lucky if it survives the night. They are the first ones to arrive, as planned, and they quickly order a glass of wine to tame the nerves slightly.

When Arizona's hearing picks up the faintest sound of someone's voice, blue eyes snap up and immediately lock onto her father. "Here we go…" She breathes out, standing to greet the man.

The hostess guides him through the restaurant until they reach their tucked away table, and his gaze purposefully studies the length of his daughter, just as a drill sergeant would appraise his soldiers. Only when she passes muster does a smile break his hardened face and he says, "Arizona, my girl. How are you?"

The blonde is wrapped up in a tight hug, one that has become a foreign memory during the last few years, and she replies, "I'm great, Dad. Really great." A scuffing of a chair behind her prompts Arizona to pull away and add, "Dad, this is Callie Torres, my girlfriend."

And for the first time Callie is subjected to Daniel Robbins' inspection, the woman silently praying that she didn't accidently spill wine on herself in the last few minutes. But she too passes when Daniel offers the woman his hand.

"Nice to meet you, Callie." He says evenly, almost unreadable. "You can call me Colonel." Dark eyes flash to her girlfriends but Arizona just shakes her head slightly, telling her to just go along with it.

"Well… Colonel, it's a pleasure to meet you as well." Callie replies just as another presence joins their group.

"Oh, there she is!" A woman exclaims, nearly blindsiding Arizona as the blonde is pulled into another hug. "My baby, how are you?" Introductions are made again, Callie getting much the same welcoming from Arizona's mother as she did her father. They haven't been rude to her, but they haven't been over friendly as well.

The four get settled in and Barbara says, "Daniel, you're looking well."

"You too, Barbie." The man replies, though neither parent is really ready to exchange actual pleasantries at the moment. Their divorce was brutal, filled with heart ache over their son's death and then their daughter's disappearance into softball. They said things to one another that would make the Devil weep. …Those kinds of wounds don't heal, not even after two years.

Almost immediately a tension blankets them and Arizona is slapping herself for even thinking that this might be a good idea. So when their waitress floats on by the blonde gestures for another drink. …A big one.

It's not long until the rest of the party appears, a silent and serious looking Torres family making their way through the restaurant. Callie is surprised to see her sister has decided to join and wonders if that's a blessing or a curse. She could use another person as back up since she and Arizona are greatly outnumbered, but if Aria hasn't seen the light then that's only one more person teaming up against the couple.

"Mom, Dad… You made it." Callie says, resisting the urge to try and hug her parents. It's been over a year since her father cut her off and this is the first time she's really attempted to try and smooth things over. Even though she was the one who invited them, Callie isn't going to go into this being the only one willing to try. If her parents want to be a part of her life again they are going to have to bend as well.

"Um, Dad, you remember Arizona." The Latina says, Arizona not shying away from the cold stare her father is giving her. "Mom, this is Arizona Robbins, my girlfriend." Lucia flinches at that word but Callie keeps on pushing. She's done tiptoeing around her parents just for the sake for their own personal comfort. "And these are her parents, Daniel and Barbara Robbins."

Introductions are had all around, each exchanging a quick word before the seven of them take a seat. Clearing her throat, Arizona tries to break some of the tension by saying, "I just wanted to thank everyone for coming tonight. Especially Mr. and Mrs. Torres, and Aria as well. It doesn't really seem like Christmas unless you are able to spend it with your family." Blue eyes scan the multiple faces surrounding her, getting a slight warmth from her parents while the other half of the table remains ice cold.

But Barbara is a mother above all else and when her daughter silently pleads for some help, she asks, "So honey, how are things in Seattle?"

"Oh, they're great. My fellowship is nearly half way complete and it seems like I'll be offered an amazing Attendings position at Seattle Grace Mercy West when I'm through." Arizona answers. "And Callie is quickly making a name for herself at the restaurant she's work-"

"I can't do this." Lucia interrupts.

"Lucia." Carlos grumbles. "You said you'd try."

"And I did." His wife bites back. "I came here and sat down with these people. What more do I need to do?" She slaps her napkin to the table and stands, grabbing her purse as she goes to leave.

Callie shoots out of her chair and exclaims, "Mom! Stop!"

"I can't sit here and watch you… ruin your life." The woman snaps back. "I thought you might grow out of this phase, that you would get over this woman, this vile sickness you have."

"Now hold on there." Daniel says, his feathers quickly getting ruffled as he listens to Lucia trash on his daughter. "Don't go on talking like that about my daughter, Mrs. Torres. That's not right."

"Not right?" Lucia sneers, looking at both of the elder Robbins like they are the plagued or something. "I'll tell you what's not right. You raising this sinner and calling her your own. You sitting there and judging me while you and your wife are mortal sinners yourself." By now Barbara is flushed and red-faced, her heart hammering as her adrenaline pumps. "You let this woman drag my daughter, my beautiful daughter into her sinister, impure lifestyle that will lead her to hell while the two of you scar the holy union that binded you together to make that damned monster."

Three Robbins shoot up out of their chair, Barbara nearly climbing the table to get at Lucia while Daniel holds his ex-wife back. Spanish and English screams are tossed back and forth like some kind of verbal tennis match. Tears stream from Callie's eyes as she fights with her parents in a language Arizona can comprehend while the blonde herself does her best to keep her Marine father from using his training on one of the Torres's.

"Stop. Stop! STOP!" Aria yells, one voice dying out at a time until it's just Lucia and Callie screaming. A hand on the Latina's back and her fight is cut off, slick eyes trying to find somewhere to hide so no one can see her cry.

A well dressed man approaches their table with a serious expression and says, "I'm going to have to ask your party to leave the restaurant. …Now. Or I'll be forced to call security." No one asks why, it's painfully obvious. They've interrupted the entire restaurant with their fighting and if it wasn't for the large table between the two families Arizona is sure that a steak knife would have ended up somewhere it shouldn't be.

They leave the restaurant quietly, and in three groups, stepping out into the brisk Boston winter night feeling very ashamed and still revved up. Arizona knows that the best thing to do is to get her parents into a cab and send them on their way, but when she hears her girlfriend fighting to keep her sobbing under control everyone else ceases to matter.

"Hey…" Arizona coos, slowly approaching the distressed woman. Tear stained brown eyes meet blue and the blonde's heart breaks. Something breaks within the Latina as well and Callie nearly collapses into her girlfriend's arms. She could care less about her mother who is still having it out with the others, for all Callie knows today was her last shot. She prayed that her parents would finally understand. …But they don't. And what's more they called the woman she loves a monster, and that's something Callie can never forgive.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. I'm so sorry…" Arizona whispers as she gently rocks the woman. Tears stream from dark eyes and the blonde can feel them pooling on her shoulder even through the thick coat she is wearing. This is all her fault, if she would have just listened to Callie her girlfriend wouldn't have her heart broken right now.

"I'm so sorry, baby. I'm sorry. …Shhh, it'll be ok, honey. We'll be ok. I'm not going anywhere, Calliope." The blonde murmurs, not knowing what else she can do besides holding the woman tight and letting her cry. Only when she hears a particularly loud shot does she look over to their parents. Both Daniel and Carlos look like they are about to go toe to toe, and their mothers aren't far behind.

"Stay here." Arizona whispers to Callie, then approaches the chaos and forces herself between the two men. "Just go!" She snaps, catching both of their attentions. "I'm serious, just go. Get in a fucking cab and leave. Do both Callie and I a favor and just leave. Never speak to each other again, never speak to us again. Because obviously that's the only way this is going to work."

"Arizona…" Barbara gasps.

"What mom?" The blonde snaps back. "What? What do you want me to do? The woman I love is standing just ten feet away with her heart breaking and I can't handle that. So I'm going to do what I need to do to protect her and to protect me. If that means cutting every single one of you from our lives, I will do it. Don't you dare think I won't." She turns back to Carlos and Lucia and says, "I don't care what you call me. Call me a monster. Call me a sinner. Call me a whore, I don't care. Think whatever you want about me, I don't care because I love your daughter and she loves me and that's all that matters. So if you losing the most amazing woman ever to walk this earth makes you feel just the tiniest bit better about being homophobic, close minded assholes, then fine. Callie and I will get back on our plane and go to Seattle and you will never hear from us again. But you can't keep me from loving her, because I'll never stop loving her."

"Why did you do this to her?" Lucia asks between sobs. "You stole my daughter and now she's going to burn in hell for it."

"I'd rather burn in hell than live a fake life." Callie replies, having heard everything her girlfriend had said and it giving her some strength. "I'm sorry I've disappointed you and Dad but… this is who I am. I fell in love with a woman, and I'm not sorry about that. And if you can't accept that, if you can't understand it then Arizona is right. …You need to leave."

"Calliope…" Carlos sighs. "You don't know what you're-"

"I know perfectly well what I'm doing, Dad." Callie cuts him off. "I'm taking a stand, something you taught me to do. Only this time I'm siding with myself. I chose Arizona, and that's it. I'm happy with her, even though we are broke and can't afford fancy dinners or fast cars or expensive homes. I'm happy. How often can you say that?"

Silence fills the otherwise loud street around them, and then Callie finds her girlfriend's hand. "Come on, Arizona. …Let's go home." Blue eyes give each so called adult one last look before climbing into the back of a cab.

But just before she is able to close the door a hand grips the edge and Aria appears. "Here…" She says, passing the blonde a hand written note. On it it has Aria's number, followed by the words, 'In case you wanted to know'.

It all falls together and Arizona's gaze snaps up to find Aria's. "It was you. You sent me-"

"Just give them time." Aria says, her own heart breaking from having to watch her sister fall apart. Even though she herself can't understand it, Aria still loves her sister and wants her to be happy. Even if it is with a woman. "They'll come around, just… just give them some time."

"They've had time, Aria." Callie says glumly. "And I'm done waiting."

* * *

**Two years later**

Charts are piled high in her arms as Arizona roams the halls of the pediatric ward. Her fellowship is about to come to an end and Dr. Baines has decided to use the few remaining weeks of her servitude to use it as a means to get all his paperwork caught up. Normally she would put her foot down and protest, but since the hospital just spent nearly half a million dollars to train her over the course of the past two years, the blonde figures she could put in a little grunt work just to repay the favor.

As she rounds a corner, her focus averted to the cell phone in her free hand, Arizona plows into someone who she never saw coming. Charts fall to the floor in a mess and blue eyes go wide in terror.

"Oh my god, I'm so-" But then she sees who it is and confusion quickly replaces fear. "Calliope? What are you doing here?"

"That's the kind of greeting I get after my girlfriend runs me over?" The Latina asks as she kneels down and helps the woman collect her charts.

"Sorry, but… what _are_ you doing here?" The blonde asks again.

But before she can be answered her Chief of Surgery approaches with a big smile on his face. "Ah! Just the ladies I was looking for." He gives his fellow surgeon a friendly smile but claps Callie on the shoulder. …Almost like they were buddies. "I'm guessing Callie here filled you in?"

"Filled me in on what?" Arizona asks, now twice as confused as before.

"Actually, I hadn't gotten to the part yet, Mike." Callie replies.

"Mike?" The peds surgeon is now completely lost. Since when has her girlfriend gotten in so well with her Chief of Surgery to the point that they refer to each other by their first name. "What's going on?"

"Well, if you had read the monthly newsletter, you'd know that we are forming a softball league to take on Seattle Pres." The chief says.

"Oh no." Arizona groans.

"And I just happened to recall that I had two superstars within arm's reach." He continues, shaking Callie's shoulder playfully as he talks. "I put in a little call, and your girl stepped up. I'm expecting you to join too, Robbins. It's all about being part of the team."

"I… I…" The blonde fumbles. "Wait, you have to work _for _the hospital to play for the hospital." She says.

"We've fixed that." Her boss replies. "Callie here is now a part time employee of Seattle Grace Mercy West."

"See?" Callie teases, pulling out her retractable ID badge for blue eyes to find before letting it snap back.

"Like I said…" The Chief adds as he starts to back track down the hallway. "I expect to see you in the dirt as well, Dr. Robbins. Go Team!"

The blonde watches as her boss fades from sight then slowly turns back to see her smiling girlfriend. "Seriously?"

"What? It'll be fun!" Callie replies giddily. "You and me? Out on the diamond again. Sweating it up, kicking ass… just like the good ole times." The Latina steps into Arizona's personal space and chances a kiss on an ivory cheek, but pulls away when the chill nearly freezes her. "Why are you being like this, Arizona? It's just softball."

"It's never _just _softball, Calliope." Arizona grumbles. "And besides, that's not the point. How could you not tell me my Chief brought you in as a ringer? Isn't that something you're supposed to tell your girlfriend?"

"It just happened today, honey." The Latina replies. "Besides, it's not like I'm going to be living here. All I have to do is spend five hours a week within these walls to be considered an employee. I'll just… I don't know… play with cancer kids. Or work the flower cart." Caramel hands slip underneath the dark navy scrubs and tickle fair flesh beneath as she adds, "Or maybe we could check out one of those on-call rooms…"

Despite her best attempts at trying to play off her girlfriend's come on, Arizona can feel her body reacting accordingly. What with their hectic schedules rarely coordinating well, there remains one thing the happy couple have not been able to explore in their sexual relationship and that's the all too common on-call room hookup.

The Latina knows she has the blonde when she notices a very distinctive change in the color blue that is staring back at her. So she leans in, lips barely tickling the skin of Arizona's ear, and she whispers, "Meet me there in five minutes."

A brown eye winks seductively and Arizona watches as the shapely body sashays away. Five minutes is too long and the blonde takes after the woman immediately, ending up at the first available on-call room mere seconds after the Latina. Frantic hands start their work at removing clothing as soon as the lock is flipped closed.

Pushing Callie back on to the bunk bed, she says, "Fine, I'm in. But I'm not pitching."

Callie just smiles as the blonde rips her pants from her body and climbs on top of her, and before they get down to business she replies, "We'll see about that, Battleship."

* * *

Despite Arizona's firm refusal to pitch during the hospital games, the blonde finds herself up on the mound. Callie has, of course, taken over the catching responsibilities but the two have toned down the intensity of their game seeing as it _is _just a friendly rivalry. It's more of an excuse for the two hospital's surgeons to get outside and drink. …Or at least that's what some of Arizona's colleagues think is appropriate because they've been taking hits from a flask since warm up's.

"How you feeling, baby?" Callie asks as she approaches the mound in her catcher's gear. It's no where's near as nice as the USA gear, but just being behind the mask again makes her giddy.

Arizona tries to keep from smiling, wanting to play up the part of unhappy participant, but she can't help it. "Ready to kick some Presbyterian ass, Boss." She replies, fist bumping her girlfriend like they used to do.

"Let's do it." The Latina drops the game ball into her pitchers glove then jogs back to her position to get set for the first batter.

And as that batter steps up, a Plastic surgeon who looks too hot for his own good, he flashes the blonde a cocky smile. Just the way he carries himself lets everyone know that he thinks the sun shines out of his ass. And when he opens his mouth to say, "Let's see what you got, honey," he removes all doubt of how big of a jerk he actually is.

Quite suddenly the need to shut him up hits Arizona full force and she dismisses the sign Callie never calls. It doesn't take long for the Latina to catch on and a shit eating grin crosses her face. She calls for a heat high and inside just to scare the asshole, and when Arizona hits the mark perfectly the batter nearly wets himself.

Callie tosses the ball back to her pitcher and says, "Only I get to call her honey, honey."

It doesn't take long to get Seattle Grace Mercy West on the board while the keen eye and killer arm of Callie Torres behind the plate keeps Seattle Presbyterian scoreless. Only a handful of her co-workers are taking this game half-way seriously, but nonetheless Arizona is having a ball. Plus being able to openly flirt, kiss, and touch her girlfriend while she wears the sexy blue uniform makes it all the better.

And as the game progresses the Latina's nerves get worse and worse. For weeks she's been planning this, hoping to get Arizona on board and pitching. Now that she has, it feels too good to be true. Even the two home runs she manages to send over the fence don't measure up to what is about to happen, and after Seattle Presbyterian manages to get its third out, Callie and her team retake the field.

"You feeling alright, Calliope?" Arizona asks as they meander out onto the dirt.

"Perfect." Callie replies, keeping her catcher's mitt closed tight from prying eyes. "Three up…"

"Three down." The blonde finishes and they part ways.

By now the game is pretty much determined, but still when Callie misses a pitch is makes Arizona stop and notice. Callie Torres never misses a pitch. She'll jump, dive, roll… whatever it takes to stop it. But she doesn't miss pitches. And when it happens for a second time Arizona knows something is going on. Blue eyes watch as her girlfriend asks for a new ball, almost as if the ball they were currently using were wet or slippery, and when the Latina tosses it back to her pitcher Arizona finds it's not a ball at all.

As she opens her glove she finds a small black velvet box, complete with the signature ball diamond red dust sticking to it. Her hands go numb and her gaze slowly tracks back up to find Callie jogging towards her, the most brilliant smile on her face. She comes to a stop right in front of the frozen blonde and pulls her catcher's mask up on top of her head, slight out of breath for another reason besides running.

"Calliope…" Arizona starts, looking between her girlfriend and the box. "What are you doing?" She asks in a weak voice.

But the woman doesn't answer, instead she yanks off her mitt and tosses it to the ground while grabbing the velvet box in Arizona's glove. "Arizona… I love you. More than I ever thought I could love another person. You've made my life complete even though I never realized it wasn't. Every day I wake up next to you is the best day of my life. …And I want to keep waking up to you for the _rest_ of my life. So…" She takes a deep breath and sinks to one knee right there on the pitcher's mound. "Arizona… Will you marry me?"

Tears collect in blue eyes and before she knows it Arizona is on the ground with Callie and is kissing her with salty lips. Both teams applaud the happy couple but neither of the women hear them, the couple so wrapped up in their own pretty pink bubble. A shaky hand pulls the engagement ring from the dirt covered box and Callie somehow manages to slip it on Arizona's hand.

"Is that a yes?" The Latina asks playfully.

"Yes! Yes. Yes, Calliope, yes." Arizona cries, tears of joys racing down her face. "Of course I'll marry you." The sparkle of the ring nearly blinds her, but it pales in comparison to the look of utter happiness warm brown eyes are giving her in this moment. Everything is perfect, the only thing missing right now is a kiss from the woman she loves. So Arizona corrects that injustice by pulling Callie in for another embrace, her hands cupping the Latina's face passionately while caramel arms snake around the blonde's waist.

When they part, Arizona whispers, "I love you."

"I love you too." Callie replies, then looks around at all the people watching them. "Now, let's finish this game so we can go home and celebrate."

* * *

**Four years later**

The atmosphere is buzzing with electricity and all eyes are glued to the action at hand. Arizona is sure she's never felt this nervous before in her entire life. Everything she'd done up to this point doesn't matter because now all she can do is sit and watch. Fingernails have been chewed down to the stud and beads of perspiration start to trickle down her face, blurring the red, white and blue face paint present on either cheek. Blue eyes dart to the scoreboard over centerfield and then flick back to USA's dugout just in time to see Team USA step out for their final inning.

It's 2016 and Team USA is in the final match of the summer Olympics. Captain Callie Torres has been leading her team to victory after victory, and now has her sights set on a second straight gold medal. The only thing that would make it even better is if it were Arizona stepping up onto the pitcher's mound. But she need only to look to the stands to find her wife fully decked out in USA attire, cheering both Callie and her team on to victory. Three outs, that's all she needs. Three outs and USA secures their place at the top again. Three outs, and they send Japan home crying… again.

It's been a long and crazy road to where they are now, but neither of them would change a thing. Well, maybe the year they spent in a long distance relationship with Arizona in Seattle working at the hospital while Callie trained in Oklahoma City for her second games. But none of that matters anymore because it all comes down to this inning.

"Come on baby! You got this!" Arizona hollers from the stands, brown eyes finding blue despite the thousands of people packed within the stands.

Torres signals her pitcher, now seasoned veteran Lucy Fields, and gets set for the pitch. A called strike and the Japanese batter snarls and shakes her head. Arizona fidgets with the chain around her neck where a heart shaped pendant and her wife's wedding ring are placed, the blonde keeping Callie's ring for good luck during the game.

The batter manages to get on but Callie keeps her team calm and they quickly get the next opponent out. Minutes seem to drag on into hours all the while USA battles to keep Japan from scoring. A sharp play from King at short earns USA their second out and Arizona shoots from her chair in excitement. Her voice has long since gone hoarse from the days of screaming at the top of her lungs, but that doesn't stop her from cheering anyways.

What could be Japan's last batter steps up to the box and the stadium silences. Lucy takes a minute to calm herself before turning to face her next batter, accepting her captains call for a drop and setting up for her pitch. The runner at third digs in deep and prepares to run her hardest ever. The drop comes and the batter makes contact. But because it dipped low just at the right time the batter barely catches a piece of it. The ball merely dribbles towards Lucy and in her frantic state to field it and make a play she immediately goes to the closest bag.

All eyes are on USA as the pitcher lobs the weak grounder to home, Callie steeling herself for what could be one of the most important plays in her career. Arizona's heart stops as she witnesses her wife catch the ball and turn to apply the tag just as the runner plows into her at full force. There's no room left for playing nice so the runner never flinched, never pulled up, never slowed down.

Callie takes the hit full on, a shockwave surging through her body as she falls back onto the dirt. The wind is knocked from her chest and she's pretty sure that the tiny Japanese woman bruised one of her ribs, but all the catcher is focused on is keeping hold of the ball.

She lands with a thud and everything goes deathly quiet, every fan, coach and player waiting for the call. The home plate umpire stands over her, holding his judgment until he sees the ball. And when she raises it high in the air, he calls that third out, closing the game.

The stadium erupts and a dog pile is quickly formed atop their downed captain. Confetti gets unleashed from somewhere up above and celebration music makes the bench seats rattle. Japan shuffles off the field, their heads hung low in defeat from their second straight let down while USA takes over the field. Flags are handed out and players wrap their home country's colors around their shoulders and they take their victory lap.

And as Callie and her team pass by the America section, the Latina breaks away to approach her wife, all of America watching as the camera's pan to them.

The blonde leans over the rails and cups the captain's tear streaked face. "You did it, Calliope. I'm so proud of you." She whispers before kissing the woman soundly for all to see.

"That one was for you, Battleship." Callie replies, stealing one last kiss before rejoining her team on field.

Arizona watches as her wife, the love of her life, takes the medal podium for the second time and gracefully bow her head to accept gold. Despite having been in that exact spot just four years ago, the blonde has never felt more proud in her life. It's not just a handful of young, immature women anymore. USA has matured, and grown, just as Callie and Arizona have. Through obstacles and fights and nights spent on the couch and wondering how they would pay the next months' rent, they've thrived. And here they are again, winning gold.

As soon as Callie is released again, she jogs over to Arizona and urges her out onto the field. There, in front of thousands of fans and millions of fellow Americans watching from back home, the married couple share a true embrace. Callie drapes the woman in the American flag as she hugs the surgeon tight while photographers snap pictures that will soon become symbolic to USA's fight and victory in these games.

"Callie! Callie Torres!" A reporter shouts, trying to catch the star's attention. "A moment?"

One thing that hasn't changed over the four years is the Latina's fear of public speaking, and it's only because she's riding the high with her wife right next to her that she doesn't melt into a sputtering puddle of nerves.

"Second straight gold. How are you feeling?" The interviewer asks, shoving the mic right into Torres's face.

"Awesome. Amazing. Perfect. Fantastic. …Words can't describe it." She replies.

The man turns to the blonde next to the player, and asks, "Arizona Robbins, it was only four years ago that you were standing right along next to Callie Torres, and many of the other players on the team. What was it like being on the other side of things?"

"It was a whole new experience for me. Watching Callie and the girls from the sidelines was more nerve wrecking then actually competing. But I never doubted them for a minute." Arizona answers with a big dimpled grin.

"Any regrets on not competing yourself this year?" He ask.

"I miss it, especially being back here with the elite of the elite competition. And being away from my wife for that year she was training was rough, but no. No regrets." The blonde replies truthfully. "Being a surgeon has always been my dream and… a surgeon's hands are their life. I couldn't risk getting injured."

"What about you, Callie? This is your second Games, meaning nearly eight years of committing yourself to the sport. Any chance we'll be seeing you in 2020 as well?" The reporter asks, winding down his interview.

"It's too soon to tell." The Latina shouts over the continued celebration being had by her teammates. "But I'm not against keeping my options open."

"So what comes next after winning two golds?" He asks his last question, smiling along with the happy couple.

Arizona gives the woman an expected look, also waiting for her answer, Callie answers, "That's easy. We go back home and start our family." And the camera fades out with the happily married couple sharing a passionate kiss, both women excited beyond words about finally being able to move on with the next part of their lives together.

* * *

**Nine years later**

It's early Sunday morning and the sound of birds chirping just outside their midtown home mixes with the faint snoring of a sleeping Latina. Their bed is warm and plush, the house quiet of any chaos or crying. It's perfect. It's everything a Sunday morning should be. Then an incessant beeping pierces the air causing Callie's night time noises to falter.

Blue eyes crack open as Arizona is pulled from her sleep. A weary hand reaches over to her nightstand and she finds the offending item. "Damn it…" She groans.

"Noooo." Callie whines, barely cognizant enough to process what is going on. "It's Sunday, hon. You don't work on Sundays."

But the blonde is already out of bed and hurriedly trying to find something to wear. "I know, Calliope, but I have to. Just go back to sleep." The few rays of sunshine just starting to poke through their windows gives the surgeon enough light to get dressed, and as she's about to head out the door she leans in close to her wife and whispers, "I'll be back as soon as I can, sweetie."

She gives the woman a kiss on her warm cheek and smiles when the Latina sleepily mumbles, "Remember, the game's at-"

"2 oclock. Got it." The blonde says, then kisses her wife one last time and then high tails it to the hospital to quell the latest disaster.

That disaster ended up being a seven year old girl who needed surgery immediately, and by the time the surgeon closes her up she is playing dangerously close to 1:30. Thankfully, as head of Pediatrics, she is able to delegate any other menial tasks that come her way so she can make her date on time.

The woman makes it to the park in record time, and with a load full of strawberries in one hand, she starts her hike over to the fields. Laughter and squeals fill the air as kids of all sizes play on the playground, making the blonde smile as well. She soon comes upon a group of adults and they all greet her with a friendly smile.

Just as she's handing off her dish to one of the other parents, a very distinctive, "Mama!" is yelled, making the blonde turn around just in time for an excited 5 year old to hug her.

"Hi, baby girl!" Arizona coos, kneeling down to get a better look at her daughter. A large, toothy grin greets her in delight while the girl's softball jersey hangs down past her waist. Raven hair is pulled into a messy ponytail that sticks out the back of her visor. Yeah, her daughter is prepared for battle.

"You ready to play some ball?" The surgeon asks, trying to tuck in the girl's jersey to her already grass stained white baseball pants.

"Yeah! I'm ready." She replies, "And guess what? Coach Mike is sick so Mommy is our coach."

Eyebrows shoot up in surprise and Arizona asks, "Mommy is coach?" Big brown eyes nearly pop out of their skulls as the girl nods enthusiastically. "Wow."

"You sound surprised." A husky voice adds, blue eyes darting up to find her wife wearing a jersey, the bottom knotted around her waist, and a matching visor on her head. "Jamie, why don't you go gather the team and get them circled up, ok?" Callie asks her daughter, and the little girl takes off at a run.

Arizona stands and appraises her wife, then says, "You volunteered to be coach?"

"Anything I can do to help." The Latina replies, tugging the blonde in closer and kissing the woman quickly.

"And it has nothing to do with your pathological need to win?" The surgeon asks sarcastically, giggling when a look of hurt crosses her wife's face. "You do know that even though this is the championship game, there are no winners. Right? I mean, you're not going to go all Boss-mode on them, are you?"

Brown eyes roll and her wife's description of her competitive streak, and she replies, "If there are no winners then why do they keep score?" Arizona only offers her a hard stare and the Latina quickly folds, "I was kidding, Arizona. I know that this is for fun, ok? I'm not expecting Jamie to-" Again the blonde raises a disbelieving eyebrow and Callie quickly corrects herself, "Ok, yeah. I expect our daughter to kill it but I know that's not what this day is about. Ok? Just relax sweetie. Just relax and cheer on your girls from the Mom section, ok?"

Pink lips turn up in a smile and Arizona replies, "Alright. Good luck Boss."

Her wife smiles then brings the silver whistle to her lips and blows, catching her team's attention. "Alright Titans, let's warm it up!" She hollers, sticking her clipboard underneath one arm while adjusting her visor.

Callie takes a step towards her waiting team but Arizona reaches out and grips her arm. Lips dance over the flesh of the Latina's ear and the blonde whispers in a sensual tone, "Don't lose that whistle and clipboard, Calliope. You're going to need it tonight." All the moisture in Callie's throat relocates to a more southern area and Arizona knows exactly what she did to the woman. With one last kiss to a now flushed cheek, the blonde smacks a very firm ass then turns to join the rest of the parents on the sidelines.

Soon two teams of highly wound five to seven year olds take the field and a game that barely resembles softball commences. Tiny humans bat and field and throw and run around in a haze of excitement, more often than not getting distracted halfway to first base as they go. But it's all in good fun, and the smile on Arizona's face never leaves. Despite her wife's huge competitive nature the Latina is nothing but patient as she coaches her daughter's team through the game.

But when Jamie steps up to bat both Callie and Arizona turn on their A game. "Come on sweetie, you got this honey!" Arizona shouts. "Eye on the ball, baby girl. Eye on the ball." If her mothers' cheering bothers the little girl, she doesn't show it. Instead brown eyes narrow and cute little pink cleats dig into the ground as she get's set.

Callie watches in silence as her daughter stares down the pitcher, a feeling of pride swelling within her. And when Jamie takes a big cut she connects and sends the ball sailing far into the outfield. "Run Jamie, Run!" Callie shouts, waving the little girl on through first base and towards second as the other team's outfielders scurry after her hit.

"Go! GO! GO!" Arizona yells, blue eyes locked on her tiny human as she hits second and turns towards third. The other team's coach, who has the third base box, waves the little girl on through as well and Jamie sets her sights on home.

There isn't even a play at the plate as their little girl crosses home, the biggest smile on her face. Arizona claps and cheers and hollers praise to her daughter while Callie is beside herself in pride. They watch as Jamie's team spills out of the dugout and congratulates their teammate, high fives and hugs being given by all the her little friends.

When the inning comes to a close Callie joins her wife at the fence and they share an equally large smile. "Did you see her?" The Latina asks. "Did you see that swing? She's a beast!"

"And that speed? Jamie was like a little roadrunner rounding those bases." Arizona replies in equal enthusiasm.

"Mommy?" A little voice asks, making both women look down to find their daughter. "Can you help?" She asks.

"Of course, mija." Callie replies, then squats down to help the little girl with her chest protector strap. Of all the positions Arizona and her wife have watched their daughter try, Jamie was just drawn to catching. Callie was ecstatic but a part of Arizona was a bit worried. Sure, she's great at it but then Arizona can also clearly recall many instances where her wife was nearly knocked unconscious by aggressive base runners, and the blonde kind of wishes that Jamie would have ended up in the safety of the pitcher's circle.

The game comes to a close and even though it's very evident that one team far exceeded the other, both are given participation medals to celebrate the close of the season. Parents take a sigh of relief, having survived yet another few months of games, practices and last minute snack runs while the kids excitedly talk about the next season. …Soccer.

When they manage to wrangle their girl again, they ask her what she wants to do to celebrate and she replies, "Mommy's!"

"Really?" Callie asks. "We can go anywhere you want, mija."

"No, I want to go to mommy's." Jamie replies firmly.

"The girl knows what she wants." Arizona muses with a shrug, just another thing their daughter inherited from the Latina.

A quick trip across town and the happy family step into the warm and already crowded restaurant that has become Callie's second baby. After her win in 2016, investors were quick to make themselves known as she presented her business plan for her restaurant. And now, after years of building its reputation among the ranks of both the food world and the entertainment world, her restaurant is one of the most popular places in all of Seattle. People wait in lines for hours just to eat her delicious creations and to hear the fresh talent that performs while they dine. The Latina has a whole crew set aside just to find those unknown singers and artists, adding to the mystique of the already elusive restaurant.

Her hostess immediately picks Callie out of the throngs of people waiting and tells her that the owner's table is free. The three women shuffle through the restaurant until they reach the best table in the house, out of the way but a perfect view of the stage, and Arizona gets Jamie settled in while Callie goes to quickly check on how her business is doing.

A quick run through the kitchen, seeing everything working like clockwork, Callie rejoins her family with their drinks and they settle in for a family dinner. Jamie gives her mom's another game play by play, acting out all the big moments with gusto as she chomps on her favorite meal in the world, her Mommy's chicken strips.

"Mama?" Jamie asks, "Can we put my medal on the fireplace like Mommy's?"

"Of course, sweetie." Arizona replies. "We'll do that as soon as we get home, ok?"

A smile turns up the corner of the Latina's lips as she watches her wife and her tiny clone interact. The relationship they have is something so amazing that Callie can't even describe it. Even though Jamie came from her body, Arizona is so finely attuned to their daughter that it's almost as if their daughter was of the blonde's own blood.

But she's shaken from her thoughts when someone taps her shoulder, and she looks over to find one of her employees. "Hey Cal, there have been many requests to hear you perform and we just so happen to have a fifteen minute break coming up."

"Yeah, you should sing Mommy." Jamie agrees.

Callie brushes her daughters messy hair and then finds bright blue eyes twinkling in agreement. It's not the first time she's been requested to perform on her own stage and every time she stands in front of those lights it makes her entire soul smile.

"Alright, you talked me into it, mija." Callie says, kissing her daughter's cheek before sliding out of the booth and approaching the stage.

A quick word to the sounds guy and she steps into the spotlight still wearing her jersey. "Thank you all for coming today…" She starts, the fear of public speaking never bothering her when it comes to singing. "Hope you all are enjoying your meal and the atmosphere. This little number is dedicated to my special girls." She gives a slight nod to the sound man and soon the opening bars of "Universe & U" start to fill the restaurant.

Arizona and Jamie watch in wonder as the Latina's voice spills out of the woman they love so deeply, her rich, thick tone playing the words perfectly in time with the melody. And it's not just her family that Callie captivates, but then entire audience. Her emotion and passion seeps from her soul as she performs the number, she and the music becoming one entity.

And as the ending notes fade out, Callie almost whispering her last "I am the universe and you…", the restaurant applauds in equal measure to the talent they just witnessed. The Latina smiles wide, her mega-watt grin sparkling in the spotlight, and she takes a few quick bows before stepping off the stage.

"That was awesome, Mommy!" Jamie exclaims as her mother rejoins their table.

"It was pretty amazing, Calliope." Arizona adds, leaning across their daughter to kiss those still smiling lips.

"Excuse me…" A gruff voice interrupts the couple, three sets of eyes turning to their intruder. "My name is Peter Klimeck and I work for Blue Note Records… I have to say, you impressed me, Ms. Torres. Here's my card. You should call me." Peter hands the stunned woman his business card then tips his imaginary hat and disappears into the crowd of the restaurant.

"Oh my god…" Callie breathes out, holding the card in front of her like it was made of dynamite. "Blue Note? I'm dreaming, right?"

Arizona just smiles and kisses her wife's cheek, whispering, "I married a superstar."

Later than night, after Jamie had been put to bed, Arizona finds herself standing in front of the fireplace staring at the mantle. It's amazing how one can fit an entire life's worth of memories on one small shelf, but as she glances from picture to picture, keepsake to keepsake, that's exactly what it is. Pictures of Jamie as a baby, Callie and Arizona just after winning their first Gold, that snapshot of the two of them surrounded by the American flag, kissing when the Latina won her second. It's all there.

Two gold medals hang reverently in their display cases, each labeled with the year and location of their victory. Beside them a picture of Arizona's brother along with his Silver Star he was awarded. The case is inscribed with 'Timothy James Robbins' along with the date of his act of heroism, which just so happens to be the date of his date. And right in the middle of those trophies is the 99 cent fake gold medal Jamie was given after the game today. It takes up the most honorable spot along the mantle, just as it should.

Tears collect in the corner of blue eyes as Arizona's mind pulls up memory after memory. This coming winter will mark ten years since the blonde's life spiraled out of control. Ten years since she lost her best friend and nearly gave up on life all together. But then something amazing happened. And she's not talking about the outcome of her trying out that fateful day. No, what happened was she met the one person in the world who could stitch and sew and glue Arizona's heart back together until the blonde had the strength to mend it herself. Callie came into her life at a point where it was the darkest, and she brought the brightest light imaginable. Now ten years later they are both wildly successful at their chosen professions, they own a beautiful home, and have a happy marriage. But all of that pales in comparison the moment Jamie came into their lives. Which is why there was no discussion when it came to naming their new born baby girl.

Warm, soft hands snake around from behind the blonde and Arizona's eyes flutter close as her wife envelopes her in a loving embrace. She melts into Callie's arms and takes comfort in the love that is always present, thanking a god she never used to believe in that he brought such an amazing woman into her life.

"You coming to bed, Battleship?" Callie whispers against an ivory neck as her lips softly peck at her flesh.

She turns in the Latina's embrace and kisses her wife, a warmth and calmness crashing over her body. Blue eyes open again and find those same brown orbs that she fell in love with so long ago staring back at her.

With a soft smile, Arizona replies, "Yeah, Boss. Let's go to bed."

The End.


End file.
